For Prompt Tuesday, San Diego Momma asks, "What’s the grossest thing you ever did for somebody because you loved him/her/it?*" My first thought was, "I've never had that kind of relationship that I would do something gross..." but then I remembered something, an incident that happened so many years ago it's barely there. It was gross, to be sure, and I did it because I loved (and still do) the person involved. And somehow in the remembering the feelings of love grew and grew and reminded me of just how much this person means to me, then and always, and how much I miss her. Isn't it funny how memories do that? The gross story follows. Look away now unless you have a strong stomach.
My best friend, Joann, has a sister who is 16 years our senior. Cathy, the sister, lived in a four bedroom house with a large yard in Henryville, PA, with her husband and two daughters. Since Cathy had the big yard and a lot of parking, she hosted many of the family get-togethers, from wild summer picnics to Christmas shindigs and even a rocking New Year's Eve soiree or two. Joey and I had a great time at these things because the adults tended to be less than vigilant about making sure we didn't sneak a drink. The party in question was of the summer variety.
I want to say that Joann had recently turned 21 (in the spring) but part of me thinks she and Bryan, her husband, were already married. No matter, Joann, Bryan and I all came in the same car because I didn't drive at the time . We got to the party and had us a beer or two before Jo's Dad, the beloved Al Lewis*, offered her some vodka. Several Uncles were there, as well as her older brother, all of whom egged her on. Not one to back down from a challenge, Joann began doing shots with the big boys. How does that saying go? "Beer before liquor, never been sicker"? The party wore on and many more intoxicating beverages were quaffed. At some point, Joann disappeared. Bryan and I found her lying in her niece's room in the dark. As I came in the room and reached for the light switch, Joann said, "Don't turn on the light." "What?" I asked, turning on the light.
What followed was the most prodigious projectile vomiting I have ever witnessed. It made the famous pea soup scene look tame. It lasted longer than those uncomfortable vomiting scenes in "The Family Guy" that seem to go on forever. But somehow, magically, she did not get any on herself or Bryan, and only managed to barely splatter my sneakers. Most of the vomit hit the wall by the light switch, which I turned off immediately, and ran down to the floor. That Joann is one perfect puker.
I don't remember all the details that follow. Did I mention I was less than sober myself? I do recall Bry soothing Joann and keeping her eyes covered while I turned on the light, grabbed a bucket and sponge, and proceeded to clean up Lake Vomitoria, scrubbing down the wall, and getting the few things that did get splattered into the laundry before her sister, or the niece whose room was defiled, found out. Then, quietly as we could (which wasn't very quiet), we shuffled Joey out to her car, which I had to drive home while Bryan held her, just in case. And I would do it again, anytime, because Joann is the kind of friend you clean puke up after.
*Not Grandpa Munster, just a beloved man named Al Lewis.
My best friend, Joann, has a sister who is 16 years our senior. Cathy, the sister, lived in a four bedroom house with a large yard in Henryville, PA, with her husband and two daughters. Since Cathy had the big yard and a lot of parking, she hosted many of the family get-togethers, from wild summer picnics to Christmas shindigs and even a rocking New Year's Eve soiree or two. Joey and I had a great time at these things because the adults tended to be less than vigilant about making sure we didn't sneak a drink. The party in question was of the summer variety.
I want to say that Joann had recently turned 21 (in the spring) but part of me thinks she and Bryan, her husband, were already married. No matter, Joann, Bryan and I all came in the same car because I didn't drive at the time . We got to the party and had us a beer or two before Jo's Dad, the beloved Al Lewis*, offered her some vodka. Several Uncles were there, as well as her older brother, all of whom egged her on. Not one to back down from a challenge, Joann began doing shots with the big boys. How does that saying go? "Beer before liquor, never been sicker"? The party wore on and many more intoxicating beverages were quaffed. At some point, Joann disappeared. Bryan and I found her lying in her niece's room in the dark. As I came in the room and reached for the light switch, Joann said, "Don't turn on the light." "What?" I asked, turning on the light.
What followed was the most prodigious projectile vomiting I have ever witnessed. It made the famous pea soup scene look tame. It lasted longer than those uncomfortable vomiting scenes in "The Family Guy" that seem to go on forever. But somehow, magically, she did not get any on herself or Bryan, and only managed to barely splatter my sneakers. Most of the vomit hit the wall by the light switch, which I turned off immediately, and ran down to the floor. That Joann is one perfect puker.
I don't remember all the details that follow. Did I mention I was less than sober myself? I do recall Bry soothing Joann and keeping her eyes covered while I turned on the light, grabbed a bucket and sponge, and proceeded to clean up Lake Vomitoria, scrubbing down the wall, and getting the few things that did get splattered into the laundry before her sister, or the niece whose room was defiled, found out. Then, quietly as we could (which wasn't very quiet), we shuffled Joey out to her car, which I had to drive home while Bryan held her, just in case. And I would do it again, anytime, because Joann is the kind of friend you clean puke up after.
*Not Grandpa Munster, just a beloved man named Al Lewis.
3 comments:
nice story about the vomit your dedication to friendship is admirable to say the least you are a little long winded i must say oh yeah answer your e-mail
Too funny! I am cracking up about JoJo projectile vomitting, and missing you and Bryan! Ahh, good times. xo
Oh no no no no no no NO.
And helll to the n to the o.
HELL NO.
(Nicely written though.) :)
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