The Streak Is Over…
Over Christmas vacation in the third grade, I caught a terrible stomach flu. I was so traumatized by the event, that I have not thrown up since. My body literally refuses to throw up. Even when I drink to excess, I just blackout. This was a fifteen year streak of not throwing up! But now its all over…
Let’s rewind.
7:30pm: It’s a normal night out with Smashley. We went to the Winking Lizard in Peninsula to have some high-alcohol content Belgium Ales. These are not your everyday Bud Lights. They are dark, thick, high alcohol content beers. Some of them have 8-9% alcohol per beer, as much as a two to three domestics. So I had six of them. I’m not driving and I’m feeling pretty good.
9:20pm: Smashley’s boyfriend gets off work is coming with us to the next bar. I am jovial. We sing loudly along to Mariah Carrey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” in the car.
9:30pm: We arrive at the bar. I have no idea where I am or what the bar is called or what city we are in. I order a tall Pabst Blue Ribbon because it is the cheapest thing they have. I also notice the bar has the largest game of Jenja I have ever seen in my life. Its like a four foot tower of large Jenja blocks. I beg strangers to play with me, and eventually one does reluctantly.
9:45pm: Shot time. That old terminology ‘beer before liqour’ is bullshit. I mix all sorts of alcohol together all the time. Alcohol cannot harm me. I am Mario with Star Power. I am invincible. I do a shot of Triple Expresso Vodka.
More shots follow. I do not pay for any of these but I believe the majority are from Smashley and her boyfriend. I remember vodka and Grand Marnier. There were others…but I cannot remember the exact specifications.
10:20: I try to steal the shot glasses.
10:21: The bartender asks me nicely to remove the shot glasses from my coat.
10:22: I surrender all but one of my shot glasses. I go to the bathroom and while urinating, steal the “Employees Must Wash Their Hands” Sign.
????: Smashley’s BF drives us back to his apartment. I fall asleep downstairs on the couch.
1:30: I awake, still kind of drunk and disoriented. I notice that my stomach is hurting. I try to find Smashley and her boyfriend upstairs. Instead, I go in the wrong bedroom and I wake up a large, angry dredlocked Polish man called “Bro” and his large, angry Alaskan Wolf-Dog, who is growling fiercely. This guy could probably destroy me in a fair and sober fight with one hand behind his back.
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?” he yells, after I startled him out of bed. I somehow convince him not to kill me and find the correct bedroom.
They are already awake since the argument next door woke them up. They laugh at me. Smashley and her boyfriend tell me to go back to bed downstairs and she will give me a ride home in an hour.
2:30: I wake them up again. I’m really feeling sick. I think I’m going to puke but I hold it back. As I wait for Smashley, I am being angrily stared down by Bro, who is unable to go back to sleep after I almost gave him a heart attack.
3:00: I am being driven back to Smashley’s, where my car is. I feel very sick in the car. But I will not throw up! I just need something to settle my stomach. Saltine Crackers. That’s what I need.
3:20: Back at Smashley’s, there are no Saltine Crackers. Instead she finds Cinnamon Graham Crackers.
3:21: I break off one quarter piece of the graham cracker and eat it.
3:22: I run full sprint to the bathroom to puke. These are violent, angry convulsions of puking. The bile shoots out like an exorcism. It is a dark brown and orange. I think back to the shots I drank. My eyes are tearing; I’m spitting, cursing out everyone and everything.
This is all very humorous to Smashley. I feel much better though.
But so ends a fifteen year streak of not throwing up…almost to the day. I guess I am a mortal after all.
