This one time, at band camp...
No really, it was my freshman year at college and my roommate and I were on our way to the first drumline party of the year. If I remember correctly, it was about a week before fall classes actually started, and all of the old FDL (Florida Drum Line) alum's were invited. These people were professional partiers. I was in the EPD (Early Party Development) stage and these guys were instructors.
Anyway, Matt (my roommate) and I showed up at the party. Things were just beginning to kick off and we headed for the keg.
Fast forward 1/2 an hour (because either nothing of consequence happened, or I was too drunk to remember). Kevin shows up with some bottles of 8-Ball (Old English 800) malt liquor. I do vaguely remember drinking out of that 40 oz bottle.
Fast forward 2 hours (same reason). The alum's have me lying upside down on the stairs, pouring upside down margaritas down my throat. Over, and over, and over again. That's the last thing I remember about the party.
Approximately noon the next day: The sound of the veins pounding in my ears wakes me up. I'm in my bed, in my dorm room, fully dressed in the same clothes I had on the night before, shoes and all. After a few quick investigational phone calls, I find out that one of the FDL guys drove me home, and my truck is still in the apartment complex where the party was. Now, I am so hung over that it hurts to think. I felt like I was going to barf, but it would hurt too much to do so. I decide that I better ride my bike out there and get my truck, and I convince Matt to come along with the promise that I'll take him to the grocery store on the way back.
A half and hour later, we're at the truck, and 10 minutes after that, I'm pulling into Publix parking lot. We swung into a little sandwich shop next to Publix to grab some lunch before we went shopping. I ordered, but could not touch my sandwich for fear of projectile vomiting. I did, however, drink all of a 44 oz Coke.
We headed next door to the grocery store and first thing I did was stop and the Coke machine and got something else to drink (did I mention was dehydrated?). As we were walking up and down the isles, I was feeling worse and worse. We got the medication section and I grabbed a bottle of Pepto and chugged half of it before putting it into the cart.
Feeling no better, we made our way into the produce section. Matt was picking out apples while I was busy feeling like shit. At one point, my mouth began watering profusely and I said, "Dude, I really feel horrible." Matt flashed a quick look my way. Then he did a double take. "GO!! GO NOW!!!" he yelled pointing towards the front of the store. It did not register at first what he was talking about, but very quickly I realized what he was referring to. I took about 3 quick steps, whipped around, grabbed one of those clear produce bags that you put fruit in, took 2 more steps, and then...
Luckily, I got that bag opened in time. There I sat, next to the tomatoes yacking my brains out into a clear bag. People in the store were disgusted, and rightly so. My puke was brown and pink from the Coke and Pepto. Nice. After I filled it up half way, I tied the bag in a knot, and debated putting it in the cart. Instead, I neatly set it in the corner by the storage area doors. Some poor guy probably picked it up later wondering what it was. What a surprise he must have gotten.
Moral of the story: If your going to puke in a grocery store, make sure you do it in the produce section.
Peace.
Anyway, Matt (my roommate) and I showed up at the party. Things were just beginning to kick off and we headed for the keg.
Fast forward 1/2 an hour (because either nothing of consequence happened, or I was too drunk to remember). Kevin shows up with some bottles of 8-Ball (Old English 800) malt liquor. I do vaguely remember drinking out of that 40 oz bottle.
Fast forward 2 hours (same reason). The alum's have me lying upside down on the stairs, pouring upside down margaritas down my throat. Over, and over, and over again. That's the last thing I remember about the party.
Approximately noon the next day: The sound of the veins pounding in my ears wakes me up. I'm in my bed, in my dorm room, fully dressed in the same clothes I had on the night before, shoes and all. After a few quick investigational phone calls, I find out that one of the FDL guys drove me home, and my truck is still in the apartment complex where the party was. Now, I am so hung over that it hurts to think. I felt like I was going to barf, but it would hurt too much to do so. I decide that I better ride my bike out there and get my truck, and I convince Matt to come along with the promise that I'll take him to the grocery store on the way back.
A half and hour later, we're at the truck, and 10 minutes after that, I'm pulling into Publix parking lot. We swung into a little sandwich shop next to Publix to grab some lunch before we went shopping. I ordered, but could not touch my sandwich for fear of projectile vomiting. I did, however, drink all of a 44 oz Coke.
We headed next door to the grocery store and first thing I did was stop and the Coke machine and got something else to drink (did I mention was dehydrated?). As we were walking up and down the isles, I was feeling worse and worse. We got the medication section and I grabbed a bottle of Pepto and chugged half of it before putting it into the cart.
Feeling no better, we made our way into the produce section. Matt was picking out apples while I was busy feeling like shit. At one point, my mouth began watering profusely and I said, "Dude, I really feel horrible." Matt flashed a quick look my way. Then he did a double take. "GO!! GO NOW!!!" he yelled pointing towards the front of the store. It did not register at first what he was talking about, but very quickly I realized what he was referring to. I took about 3 quick steps, whipped around, grabbed one of those clear produce bags that you put fruit in, took 2 more steps, and then...
Luckily, I got that bag opened in time. There I sat, next to the tomatoes yacking my brains out into a clear bag. People in the store were disgusted, and rightly so. My puke was brown and pink from the Coke and Pepto. Nice. After I filled it up half way, I tied the bag in a knot, and debated putting it in the cart. Instead, I neatly set it in the corner by the storage area doors. Some poor guy probably picked it up later wondering what it was. What a surprise he must have gotten.
Moral of the story: If your going to puke in a grocery store, make sure you do it in the produce section.
Peace.
Laid down by AT - 7:32 AM
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