We Made It To P

Yeah - Pattygal and I were discussing vomit for the bazillionteenth time in the past 24 hours...And I remembered one of my all time great puke stories. Because, compared to other bodily functions like poop, vomit just doesn't get a fair amount of airtime.

I'm a puker...Just am...Always have been. My mom says I came out of the womb that way -- Hurled on anyone that touched me as an infant. So during the heavy drinking and partying years, puking was pretty much a way of life. I can remember my very last alcohol induced puke like it was yesterday. (Well - A few of the details are fuzzy at best...But I've got the gist of it.)

Probably 10 years ago....Was hanging with old pal, D, in her big ass townhome that she shared with about 4-5 other people. Early in the evening I had a Starbuck's Frappacino....I swear it had something to do with the outcome. (Pun intended.) And I've not had one since. Back at D's, it is just D, me, and Pete - The librarian who lived in the closet and didn't drink at all and rarely talked much and had an outrageous crush on me.

So D and I start with two of the mega bottles of wine. One of her roommates had a CD player that held about 100 CDs. We started a game where we listened to one song or artist per letter of the alphabet. And we just kept drinking. The wine ran out...So we moved on to whatever beer there was in the fridge. And there was a lot.

At some point, I tell D "I am putting myself to bed." And D and I were the kind of friends that thought nothing of sharing a bed. So I go up to D's room, borrow a t-shirt, and put myself in for the night. I distinctly remember D screaming up the stairs, "Trix -- Your sister's song is on!!!" It was PearlJam's Can't Find A Better Man. That means we were on the Ps...Not the C's. So, obviously, the evening had been going a while.

Soon, D gives in too and is in bed beside me. Things go downhill from here.

Trix --- "Whoa...I'm gonna puke."
D -- "Whoa....Me too."

D takes the bathroom a floor down...I take the one next door. We simultaneously hurl, clean up, and make it back to bed at the same time.

A few minutes later:

Trix - "Whoa....Gonna puke again."
D -- "Whoa....Me too."

(Things get blurry here.)

D goes to her bathroom...Me back to mine. I remember lotsa matter lotsa places. But I also distinctly remember doing an excellent job of cleaning up. Head back to the bedroom...And just calmly put myself back to bed.....Or so I think. D makes it back a few moments later.

The next morning, daylight rudely awakes us.

Trix -- "Ummmmmm.....D? Any ideas on why I am naked?"
D -- "Ummmm.....No idea. But why are there no sheets? We're sleeping on the mattress."

We painfully and groggily raise our heads to scan the room. And there, in the corner, ever so neatly placed, is a wadded up pile of sheets and the clothes I'd borrowed from D.

Yeah...So I hadn't quite made it out of bed in time. BUT -- I had the good sense to strip the bed, strip me, form a nice little bundle, and throw it in the corner so a drunken D could get back in bed none the wiser.

Damn Starbuck's and their Frappacino's!!!