Not my own vomit
but the vomit of a very good friend.

We'll call him Lee. Lee is a big guy, bit of a metaller, about 6'4 with big hair and a big beard, and is built in a brick shithouse kind of shape. He works at a pub, and his after hours drinking dive of choice is a cheap as fuck place called The Purple Turtle, in Oxford city centre, and because he's there, I'm there too, as are the other two blokes who were on shift with him tonight.

Lee had had a couple, I think its fair to say, and, as happens even to the best of us from time to time, he was feeling a little unwell. Hand over his mouth, he gets up and heads for the gents. I continue drinking with the other two, my back to the tunnel that leads to the toilets. I imagine that under the music I hear a bit of a bang from behind me, but I probably just think that I did cos I know the rest of the story. A minute passes, and Lee comes out of the toilets at double time, claps me on the shoulder and says to the table "Comeon guys, we gotta go, NOW".

Despite having half a pint in hand, I sense the situation is too urgent to take the time to finish, and we follow him outside. He's leading us away quite quickly and looking over his shoulder every few steps at the alley that the club's on. As we round the corner, we ask him why we we had to leave almost 75 pence worth of lager EACH on the table. He explains.

Upon entering the gents with the quite desperate need to throw up, he discovered that all the cubicles, as well as the sinks, were taken up by other customers. Now Lee, as I mentioned, is quite a big bloke. Quick as a flash, in his inebriated state, he decided that the best thing to do would be to knock down one of the cubicle doors.

He charged the toilet door with his shoulder. The door slams open, where, obviously, some poor unsuspecting inside is taking a dump. Equally obviously, Lee did not think of this beforehand, as he vomits exactly where the toilet bowl would be, if there wasn't some bloke's lap in the way.

"Shit" Lee thinks, as the last of the vomit leaves his mouth. "Ohhhh shit." In his drunken brain, Lee realises that this guy is likely to be pretty unbelievably pissed off at him, and so he decides to do what he considers to be the only sensible thing to do at this point.

He decides to get the first punch in.

Lee clobbers this guy, straight to the face, and flees the gents toilets ahead of any retaliation. He claps his mate on the shoulder and leads them out of the club.


So he's telling us this story as we're out on the street, and all three of us are eating the fucking floor laughing. Cos all I can do, hearing this story, is imagine it from the poor bloke's point of view. Someone breaks down the toilet cubicle while he's having a shit, throws up on his lap, punches him in the face and then runs away. All in all, he's clearly having a pretty bad night.


Anyway, that's my best vomit story, and my first qotw post. Worth a click?
(Spoffin, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 3:23, 4 replies)

This happens surprisingly often
(An amusing and topical username, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 3:46, closed)

This sounds familiar
http://b3ta.com/questions/vomit/post12206
(oball needs Satan more than he needs me, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 8:01, closed)

Familiar?
Yes, but I still laugh!
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Sat 9 Jan 2010, 19:32, closed)

i wonder if anyone
has a 'friend' that hasn't done this...
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Sun 10 Jan 2010, 8:56, closed)