So, in sticking with the nauseous theme, I present to you The Great Puke of 2014, ruining my two year streak which of course pales in comparison to Jerry’s.
So the other day at work I started feeling a wee bit woozy. I had been fine all morning but clearly something I ate at lunch didn’t agree with me. My belly was doing flip flops and I fluctuated between perspiring and goose bumps and all in all it was totally unpleasant. I went to bathroom more than a few times with the disturbing feeling that I wasn’t sure what was going come out of where. I put cold water on a paper towel and put it on the back of my neck. I loosened my pants. I swallowed hard and tried not to think about it because you see, I am the World’s Worst Barfer. Seriously, my Mother can barf anytime, anywhere and without bravado. She once barfed during intermission in a concert hall trashcan at a Tim Conway/Harvey Korman performance and went right back to her seat to watch the second half of the show. She’s unflappable. Me? Notsomuch. Terrible at vomiting. It’s very violent and dramatic and I fight it every step of the way. The thought of vomiting at work was even more traumatic because I am the only woman in my office and they’re complete pigs and the thought of having to put my FACE near the toilet seat was enough to induce explosive vomiting, period. It just made it all the worse.
Anyway. Things settled down. Ah…thank baby Jesus, I was gonna make it. I left the office at 5:00 and headed to our restaurant. It was Friday night and I always help out on Friday’s, but I had to run by the bank first. I roared into the drive thru right before they closed and as I put in my deposit, I noticed a little Hawaiian bobble head dancing girl in the window. She was battery operated and was doing a little hula jig. As I watched her go back and forth vomit suddenly sprang forth in my mouth. Just a small amount but as with shitting your pants, ANY amount feels like way too much. Wide eyed and horrified I swallowed it and sped out of the banks’ parking lot. I jumped on the interstate and gunned it towards the pizza shop. It became evident pretty quickly that my body was NOT running the show and I was literally going to barf while driving my Jeep. Jesus.
So there I was on interstate 40 going 75 miles an hour, gagging and sweating and swallowing hard. I wasn’t going to make it. I screeched off at the very next exit and peeled into a strip mall of sorts. I was devoid of privacy or dignity but did not care because I knew I was about to hurl my lunch into oblivion. As the car came to a halt I flung open my door and lurched over to rid myself of whatever was trying to clearly kill me.
FAIL. In the extremeness of the situation I had forgotten to unbuckle my seat belt so in effect I completely vomited all down my left side and INSIDE my Jeep. My buckle jerked me back just as hard as I had jerked forward to barf. UGH. My barfing on myself only made me barf harder if you can believe that and I cannot imagine what the poor people walking in the parking lot thought. As it was happening I made a mental note to chew more thoroughly because I noticed a COMPLTELY WHOLE cherry tomato amongst the remains of my lunch.
After the third wave it was over. I was wearing a scarf around my neck which now is affectionately referred to as my “barf scarf” as it served to clean me up as well as the floorboards of my Jeep. I quickly decided to call it a day and head home to change and take a Silkwood shower. I “may” have taken a picture of it on my phone because who wouldn’t want their epic barf as a screensaver? Kidding. I did take picture of it only because of the sheer volume of it all and I wanted to show Johnny how my afternoon had gone down. I like to share.
What? It’s not like I put it on Instagram, y’all.