I’m heading home on the PATH train (goes under the river from NY to NJ), and the young businessman standing right in front of me starts throwing up. Again and again and again.
Everyone made a beeline to the outer reaches of the car: we’d already gone into the tunnel, so there was no escape, or stopping the train. I managed to dig a little pack of tissues out of my pocketbook and hand it to him (he clutched at it with vomit-dripping hands!) ands joined the other passengers huddled against the door. And tried, for the rest of the trip, to keep my own lunch down as poor Pukey Guy hurled over and over and over again.
(Urgh. I am getting a bit queasy even recalling this.)
Poor Pukey Guy. He will have to quit his job and leave the country, as no matter what else he accomplishes in life, he will always be The Guy Who Threw Up on the Train. I’ve had a couple of close calls myself, but thus far (kina hora!) have escaped that fate.
I read the title of the thread as “Chuckypoodle Choo-Choo” and was sure it was going to be about some new part-poodle dog breed with one of those hideous and embarassing oodle names, like “Schnoodle” and “Cockapoo”.
After reading the OP, I wish it were just about poodles.
A lady with your advantages will be acquainted with A Thousand Nights And A Night, I presume? With particular reference to the short’n’sweet “The Historic Fart”?
Pardon me boy
You better run if you got new shoes
I’m travelin’ by rail
But boy that sushi was stale
Can you afford
To lend a fella all your tissues?
In case that plan fails
You better get me a pail
Reversin’ peristalsis is this trick that I know
Ev’rybody better duck 'cause I’m gonna blow
Don’t think I’m a whiner
No train could be finer
But if you like your tummy I’d avoid the diner
When you see a technicolor yawn right up close
Try to keep your lunch down holding on to your nose
Don’t be disapprovin’
Just keep your feet movin’
Tell the porter when you see him “bring the hose.”
I hope there’ll be
A man with sawdust at the station
The vomit won’t stop
Won’t someone please bring a mop
Please bring a mop
Please bring a mop.
I was very nearly that guy myself, once. I was on the bus in San Francisco, leaving school, trying to talk to this cute girl from my last class despite feeling pretty crappy, when suddenly I realized I needed to get off the bus right now. Later, the girl said that my face instantly turned oatmeal grey. I lurched off at the next stop and stumbled into a diner on 19th avenue, croaked out, “Can I use your bathroom?” and just managed to get into the stall before the Flood began.
That did not turn out to be the most fun I’ve ever had over Christmas break.
Aaaaah! It’s like the first chapter of The Hot Zone!
“He is holding an airsickness bag over his mouth. He coughs a deep
cough and regurgitates something into the bag. The bag swells up. Perhaps
he glances around, and then you see that his lips are smeared with something
slippery and red … .”
Once when I used to take the bus, a poor girl staggered up the aisle from the rear of the bus. She was completely dripping with vomit from chin to foot, and needed to get off the bus NOW. Poor thing! I know from experience that the very back seat of the bus is not the place to sit if you’re prone to motion sickness.
Excellent and scary book! And can I just speak from experience and say that when using an airsickness bag, don’t put it up past your lips, if you can manage it. I didn’t do so, and wound up w/ regurged cheesy eggs on my chin and upper neck, and on my white sweatshirt. The emitus splashes back up in the bag, don’tcha know.
Last week at the Science Center, we had a young girl puke up all over the ramps (instead of stairs going up to the various floors, we just have ramps). I was monitoring the ramps to make sure everyone had their wristbands on, and I had to warn everyone going up until the janitor got there.
Poor thing was so embarassed. I felt sooooo bad for her. (Her mother was waiting for her hubby to come and pick them up, and she was leaning over the trash can). What’s more embarassing when you’re thirteen?
