3 Volcanoes
Intro
In general, the only things better than drinking way too much is throwing it all back up. Everyone has been there. Some of us have brought vomiting to a whole different level & those are undoubtedly how we will be remembered. Most of us have at least one good vomit story. That’s most of us. I can up the ante to three that really stand out in my mind. Keep in mind this is not even the vaguest attempt to match a Tucker story so lower expectations.
Miah’s
So I am drinking over at Miah’s duplex in either late September or early October this year. This was an interesting evening before my volcanic stomach even erupted. Mind you, most of this is recalled through second hand stories. If anyone has revisions to the series of events, please submit them. To the best of my recollections, a good friend of mine was definitely trying to close the deal. This may have actually gone down, had it not been for the interference of drunken others trying to lay a C-bomb. (This lead to the valuable lesson: Don’t try having sex in other’s beds. It doesn’t make friends.) Whatever your stand on the morality of the player, the C-bomb was dropped & unless Jaren & Chris cuddled tight, nobody received sexual favors that night.
I enjoyed a smorgous board of beer on this night. Everyone seemed to be offering and I, always seeking a quality sample, am never one to turn down a free drink. Truthfully, I was actually quite disappointed with myself. I was annulated not only early, but after just over half my normal consumption standards. Despite this fact, the night was fairly enjoyable. I lay down, pass out, and our story fast-forwards. The next thing I remember is launching out of my sleep with a mouthful of vomit. Thankfully, I didn’t spray anyone or even too much…initially. Knowing I have fucked already, the race is on for the front door. I won the race, a highlight of the night, just in time to populate the front steps with another explosion. Thankfully others were willing to keep me company, as sitting in the cold throwing up can be very lonely. For probably the next hour, I perfected the two-finger diet. (For anyone looking for a quick way to lose weight, this is recommended. I can attest to the effectiveness after this evening.)
After my hour spent on the front porch, I moseyed myself back inside. Bad idea. I apologize to all trying to piss on that night for this. My germ phobia doesn’t allow me to hug toilets, thankfully, but let’s just say the bathroom was occupied for the next hour. This is kind of a theme when I throw up. After listening to the verbal abuse, confident it was over, I passed back out, Only to wake up only 3 hours later to go to work. I did redeem myself, slightly, by cleaning up the mess in the morning. Still, Miah, I am sorry.
UWM
This past February, like most weekends at the time, I went on a treck to UWM for the weekend. It was a Friday like many others, I had gotten done with work at 11 & got down there around 1. I had a lot of catching up to do. Well, I tried. I think I drank 5 beers in the 1st half hour. OK, Cole might have trouble with that pace so I am already rocked. I then left home base & made my way upstairs to play cards. I don’t really like card games for this reason: I don’t drink to the rules, instead choosing drink for everything. The next hour I drank, drank, and, well, drank. It was a constant procession of beer headed in my direction & empty bottles streamed back. During this evening I found my love for rapping drunk & dropped a lot of J-style N-Bombs in the process.
In any event, I laced down 9 more beers to make my count 14 in an hour & a half. This has not been repeated by myself nor would I like to attempt it again. Why? It doesn’t take a genious to figure out that 14 bottles of Budweiser in a 150 pound man in a short period of time is like dropping a box of Twinkies at a Weight Watchers meeting. Shit is going to fly. I began to feel the rumblings. Gurgle….gurrrrrgle…. gurrrrrrrrrrrrle… I attempted, unsuccessfully to convince my girlfriend a few times to leave. (My attempts were refuted, her thought I was trying make love. Well, she was half right, I was, after I threw up.)
Well, we didn’t leave and I launched a stream of puke literally 5 feet across this dorm room. Even with the arc & distance, I nailed everything between myself and the wall. I would hate to estimate where that would have landed had there not been an obstacle in the way. My guess would have been somewhere in Lake Michigan. Well, to say the least, the room full of revelers were not fans of this, nor were the inhabitants of the dorm. I struggled back to her dorm room & made out with a garbage can that night. It was a good kisser, but a little metallic for my liking. This was never invited back to that room and was undoubtedly the most embarrassing night of my life. My bad guys.
Paris
The summer before my senior year, I rolled along on a school sponsored trip to England & France. There was nothing educational about this trip. It just happened my 18th birthday on the 6th day of the trip and this event was not going to go by uncelebrated as the drinking age in France was 16. All on the trip were very inclined to take advantage of this. Maybe things wouldn’t have got to the point they did, except for the fact we spent the early part of the evening with our teachers & chaperones getting lit. This led to the worst recommendation ever received in my life. My history teacher, a man I respected greatly, suggested white rum and Coke. Take my word, this is a near lethal combo. After several drinks, each having decidedly more rum, I decided to go straight rum the rest of the night. After a ridiculous and unsuccessful attempt to score a chick on the trip & morning on the way, I decided to call it a night.
I made it back to the room & that’s when all hell broke loose. Everything hit me & I hit the bathroom. I filled the toilet, not once, but twice. Being new to the drinking game, this sucked. Trying to end this, I went to bed to end the misery. I would rethink this decision. My world immediately began to spin, vomiting all over my bed, over & over again. To quote Dylan, “I had a wicked demon in me.” It was my goal to exercise it. After spoiling the hell out of my bed my final quote was, “You know what the best part of throwing up all over your bed is? Sleeping in it!” With these final words I slumped into my slop & slept. The story does not end there. Sleep ceased when housekeeping came. I don’t know if they knwocked by I know they entered without my consent. After nearly killing myself drinking, I had to survive one final assault. The maid came in my room & began cursing at me in French. In addition to feeling like shit, having nothing in my stomach, & wanting to die. I now had a splitting headache. While I showered, she changed the sheets. Thankfully, & I don’t think coincidently, she was gone in the 5 minutes it took me to shower.
