Ever puke in public? (This one's gonna be gross, I'm sure)

I have. Twice. Both times at the Indiana State Fair.

#1: My best friend Marie and I went to the fair on one of those days that they offer a wristband for purchase that gets you all the rides you want. We were about 17, and had just started smoking occasionally to be “cool”. It still made me a little sick to my stomach.

For our third ride of the morning, we chose The Zipper (explanation of how it works is here). It was fantastically fun for the first part of the ride. Then I started to feel a little queasy. I don’t remember if I said I was going to throw up, or if she said I looked like I was going to throw up. Either way, I threw up.

At first, I thought I was just gonna puke once and could urp hold it in until the ride was over. Boy, was I wrong. As we got out of our “seats,” we heard the ride operator say something like, “Hey Joe - gimme the hose.” We were near a bathroom, so I had a chance to go clean up a bit. Unfortunately, vomit doesn’t come out of clothing very well (at least not without a full turn in the washer). And I had just bought the damned shirt the day before!

By the grace of Og, I had a backpack with some clothes with me - well, in Marie’s car. (I was going to stay at her house that night.) Apparently, back in 1997, they didn’t do “pass-outs” at the fair. Thankfully, Marie’s a very … persuasive person when she needs to be. She pointed out that they could see her car from the gate, and that it might be bad PR to have a teenaged girl walking around the fair all day covered in vomit. They agreed.

I didn’t ride anything more exciting than the Carousel the rest of the day.

#2: This past Saturday. I was at the fair with my mom, and (oddly enough) Marie (plus her daughter and boyfriend). We wandered around together until around 5:00, when my mom and I were finally getting tired and decided to leave. I was really hot and had quite the headache, but that’s not so unusual for me in the heat. I decided I wanted some ice cream, and she got an elephant ear. I quickly realized that it wasn’t exactly agreeing with my stomach.

Let’s just say that I saw my Moose Tracks again. Thankfully, I had made it to the First Aid building, so while I was in “public,” I was in a one-person bathroom. (It still sucked!)

I had a lot of close calls back when I used to get sinus headaches more frequently. The worst was a ride from Oakland to Berkeley on BART for an appointment I absolutely couldn’t get out of. I made it, but barely.

I did hurl behind some bushes once I got to campus.

There was also one time on a plane–yes, those little bags do come in handy sometimes. We had just had two weeks in Acapulco and I invariably get traveler’s tummy even looking at a map of Mexico. On the way home, there was a 3 hour delay on the runway with no air conditioning. Too much for my guts.

I totally hurled, dude, at the I-81 rest stop north of Christiansburg VA coming home from college once, since I had polished off a bottle of rum the night before. Blew chunks right there in the parking lot. I was ill for days.

And I kind of puked up a bit after getting off the Loch Ness Monster (roller coaster) at Busch Gardens once. Managed to hold it in my mouth until I got to a trash can.

Once. I was in about 4th grade, and we were visiting my uncle who lives in Salt Lake City. He took us to a fancy brunch (where I ate more than I probably should have) and then we rode in a ski-lift gondola thingie up to the top of a mountain (don’t ask me which one). I got to feeling worse and worse and then we got to the top of the mountain and I got of the gondola, walked over to the fence and promptly threw up. Fortunately, I did not get anythhing on my clothes. We walked around a bit and then rode back down(with me now sitting on the floor where I couldn’t see just in case it had been the visual which had done me in). I was fine the rest of the trip.

Any time I ran a race all out.

It’s not dry heaves,I’m working my abs. :eek:

I barfed in the middle of a school assembly in the 6th grade.

No, I never lived it down.

I can also think of two instances, but there might be one or two more…

#1 - After a long night of drinking and debauchery with my friends in college, I was feeling a bit peaked. It had been my first intimate, sustained encouter with Jose Quervo. I stayed the night at the host of the party’s house with a few other folks and cut my morning class due to my hangover, but I couldn’t miss my afternoon class. So I tried to suck it up and headed to school. I managed to make it through the class somehow, but I was really woozy.

After class I went over to the campus bookstore to buy some Sprite to settle my stomach for my drive home. There were three students in line in front of me, and a friend of mine (who had been at the party) was working the cash register. I could feel myself grow sweaty and light headed, but by some miracle I somehow held “it” down untill I could pay for my drink and lurch outside to blow chunks onto the base of a ornamental tree in front of the bookstore.

#2 - In one of my (rare) “single lesbian” phases, I worked up the guts to ask this very cute redhead to attend an Indigo Girls concert with me at Atlanta’s Chastian Ampitheatre. Asking women I’m interested in out on a date has never come easy for me (I blame my rare single phases on the fact that “no” isn’t in my vocabulary when I’m the one being asked), so I would manipulate myself into doing so by buying two tickets to concerts that I wanted to attend. I was further encouraged to ask her out because in a few weeks she was moving to Japan to teach English…no pressure of any pending long-term entanglements, and hey…I might even get lucky if I really poured on the charm. :cool:

As I was exclusively a bicycle commuter at the time, with no car, she was going to pick me up at work and drive us to the show. Something I ate at lunch that day did not agree with me, but I was damned if I was going to let a little upset tummy get in the way of a cute redhead and the Indigo Girls playing for a hometown crowd. So I tried to put the nausea out of my mind, and managed to buy a bottle of Pepto Bismal at a convenience store before she picked me up. 30 minutes later, we’ve just parked her car and are walking with dozens of other people from the parking area to the the venue…que the projectile neon pink vomit. So much for a pleasant first date, or getting any “last hurrah in the US” nookie before she went of to Japan.

I tried to convince myself that things would be better once I’d expelled the entire contents of my stomach…but I was wrong. I spent the opening act either in the bathroom or navigating my way through the crowd to the bathroom. I spent the first half of the Indigo Girls doing the same thing, untill my very nice date finally convinced me to let her take me home. I thanked her by dry heaving out her passenger-side window at least 4 times on the way to my apartment.

She went off to Japan and we e-mailed once or twice.

When I was about four or five, I threw up in a public pool. Everyone had to get out and the lifeguard cleaned it up with one of those screen leaf scoopers.

I was in Paris a few years ago backpacking with a buddy of mine when it came on very suddenly. We were walking down a pretty busy street near the Bastille. I didn’t realize I was going to be sick, but all of a sudden, urp! (probably had something to do with the heat) I had no choice but to quickly duck into the nearby doorway of a building (luckily it turned out only to be a stairwell, but still…). Anyway, that was that. Felt perfectly fine afterward, just a little hungry.

Another time, and this one’s pretty good. I was about 9 years old on vacation in New Orleans with my parents and my brothers. Got really really sick on that trip - I always get sick on vacations. How strange that I still have such a passion for travel. :slight_smile: Anyway, my parents were having our picture painted by an artist in Jackson Square, and I kept complaining that I was feeling terrible. Guess mum didn’t believe me or something, or maybe they were just eager to finish the portrait. Well, she learned her lesson. Ended up spewing all over the place, and we had to go back to the artist’s apartment the next day to finish the painting. The painting illustrates perfectly how sick I felt. It’s terrible. And it hung in the dining room for years afterward.

Yes, once.

I had smoked a cigar in the afternoon, but I must not have cut it cleanly at the mouth end, resulting in my swallowing a shred or two of tobacco. This is sure way to get violently ill, and the reason you read in old novels–from a time when cigar smoking was more common–of kids stealing one of Father’s cigars and then getting sick when they attempt to smoke them.

The embarrassing thing was, it was in the evening when it happened; we were sitting at a bar; and we’d had a few. Surely not enough to be sick, but enough that it was time to go. Anyone watching me would have concluded it was solely the martinis that were at fault.

Once in an amusement park trashcan after one of those spinning rides where the centrifugal force holds you up on the side. I’d forgotten about it until this thread reminded me.

Once in my friend Matt’s bushes while he was having a party inside. I’d had a couple drinks – not enough to get me sick normally, but I also hiked up the hill to get a big sandwich from Hot Truck (those of you who’ve been there will understand) and the combination of italian spices, Bartles & Jaymes, Coors Light, and heavy sausage in an otherwise empty stomach did the trick.


It wasn’t technically public, it was in a car, but it was pretty bad.

I was only about 10, or maybe 12 years old. We were driving from NYC to W. Virginia with some family friends (hi, CandidGamera!) and I was sitting in the back seat.

Now of the other two people in the back seat, one of them was the adult son of the friend, whom I had a huuuuge crush on. Let’s call him Sunil, cause that’s his name. Anyway, the ride went on, and on, and on, and in those days I used to get sick all the time. And the adults kept jabbering, and I kept saying I felt sick, but no one was really paying attention to me - until I threw up.

But i couldn’t just throw up, oh no, not me. I had to throw up all over Sunil’s lap! puke! over his nice new slacks that he had just put on that day. We had to stop the car, everybody had to get out, and get cleaned up.

And you know what? He never got mad, instead teased me gently, hugged me, and kept a careful eye on me the rest of the trip in case I got sick again.

When I was 20, I was getting ready hitchhike to St Louis and was overcome by bad pizza and sunstroke as I was meeting a friend to cash my paycheck. I walked up tp the fence they were leaning on, said “hey,” and proceeeded to vomit. I continued vomiting even after I had nothing left. The the police showed up. The restaurant across the street had been trying to get rid of Those Goddam Punks on the Corner and called the cops on me. My friends walked me home dry heaving. At one point, I swalloed a cup of cold water, then expelled a cup of warm water. In the previous 24 hours, though one fo my friends had had his car towed, one had been hit by a car, and one had lost a tooth. We (well, not me, I was vomiting) called ourselves Limpin’, Pukin’, Toothless and Towed.


  1. 2nd grade all over a brand new text book.
  2. About 12 years old leaving an Italian restaurant with my family, chucked just inside the entrance.
  3. I worked a couple summers on ocean going charter boats. Lost my cookies a couple dozen times.
  4. When I was a senior in high school, I had Christmas dinner with my girlfriends family. I had the flu and the smell of one dish hit me wrong. The only bathroom in the house was occupied and I barely made it to the kitchen sink.
  5. While in US Navy electronics technician school, drank too many Stroh’s (first time I had seen the beer) and ate a bunch of pickled eggs. I barfed on the legs of another guy that was on his hands and knees puking his guts out.
  6. At a Rolling Stones concert in Anahiem. I was given a hit of acid and was told it would give me a nice buzz. Whatever it was knocked me on my ass, I came to in a puddle of puke.
  7. Outside of a Denny’s in San Diego. Another night of drinking and the smells inside the restaurant disagreed with me. An older couple walked up just as I finished, the lady decided she wasnt’ hungry anymore.
  8. Went to a Turkey shoot, you needed a bottle of Wild Turkey whiskey and a $20 bill. Everyone present puts the money in the middle of the table and at a specified time, everyone takes a shot. Then everytime the second hand hits 12, everyone takes another shot. This goes on till one person can stand up and walk out the door with the money and no one objects. There was 7 of us and after 15 minutes, we were all totally shitfaced. I passed out a bit later and woke up a couple hours after the shoot began. I went outside and barfed all over a neighbors rose bushes, returned to the house to find the money on the table, pocketed it and went out and passed out again in the back seat of a cousin’s car.
  9. Ate some bad onion rings at a fair and chucked on the ground next to a new hot tub.
  10. Went to work with a stomach virus and made love to a garbage can in front of a bunch of co-workers.

I get horrendous motion sickness, so it’s a frequent occurrance for me.

Nothing I’ve done, however, stands up to a roommate’s combo of a spaghetti dinner topped off with I-don’t-know-how-manyh Blue Hawaiians. We had to buy the dorm a new wastebasket after that bacchanal.

My boyfriend and I had went out for a night on the town, had some drinks…I had more than I should have. I had to ask him to pull over on the way home, so I could puke.
He must’ve taken pity on me, since we’ve now been married for almost 21 years!

I’ve blown chow at work a couple of times this summer, a side effect of my gastric bypass. Once was in to my office trashcan, but the rest I made it to the men’s room for.

I was alone each time, thank Og.

Many times. Usually when drunk.

I did have a good one sober, once, after a big regional championship race…which I won! It was literally the beginning of a streak that would lead me to 2nd place in the state championships and several school records. It was a big win for our team in general, one of the first of that magnitude in years for our running program, and I knew we’d done outstandingly. I was so triumphant. I was jumping around, high on victory, cheering, laughing, probably the first really exceptional thing I’d ever done with myself in my otherwise underachieving life so far, just so happy…

My coach comes up to me, lets out a whoop and gives me a big hug. Something about the hug. I dunno, maybe it was just timing, but things took an almost instant turn for the worst. I violently shoved him away from me, doubled over, and just went “BLEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!” right there in the midst of a crowd of my fellow teammates and cheering parents. I missed my coach’s shoes by inches. Coach let out another whoop, said something like “Holy sheepdip!” and slapped me on the back so hard I thought I was going to toss again. I’m standing there with him, laughter still coming from my now vomit-spackled lips, and everybody around us has this horrified look on their face. It really was a spectacular hurl. I’d eaten a big ham omelette that morning, which was definitely a bad idea. (Or maybe not…I won, after all). Very messy, very nasty coloration. Oh well. Would have been one for the local sports pages but for that.

Only twice that I can remember:

#1: When I was about 14 I was with my family visiting relatives in California, and we went to Six Flags. The day before, however, we went to the beach and I got a bad bad sunburn from my knees to the tops of my feet. I mean really really bad. I wore shorts because I thought pants would hurt it, and it happened to be about 105 degrees that day. The heat, plus the pain, plus the sun pounding on my legs all day while I waited in lines forever was just too much for me. I threw up waiting in line for the Joker’s Revenge.

#2: This one was pretty recent, about 3 weeks ago. I went to the gym to do a kickbox group fitness class. I hadn’t slept much the night before, I hadn’t really eaten much, and I hadn’t done any strenuous exercise in a while. Overdid it, ran out of class early because I was getting dizzy. The dizziness didn’t wear off as fast as I’d hope so I stumbled to the front door, started to black out and sat/fell down by the bushes in front of the building, and threw up a little.

I get horrendously sensitive to motion when I’ve got a headache, as I’m sure most people do. So you can imagine how fun it was to get a migraine while working a 2-hour bus trip away from home, with no money to get a taxi anywhere.

I didn’t even have a headache in the beginning, just the weird auras. So I told my boss I was coming down with a migraine and would have to go home. That’s fine. So I head out and get the bus. It’s about an hour from where I was working into the centre of Sydney, where I’d have to get another bus home. So the bus is driving, driving. The auras are gone but the headache’s getting worse. And I’m getting queasier. By the time we hit the bridge (Sydney Harbour Bridge), I’m dry heaving and keeping my mouth closed in case it happens. Finally we get into the final stop. I get off of the bus in front of the Queen Victoria Building, right in the heart of Sydney’s CBD, lean over against the bus shelter and vomit four times in a row. Whooooosh. So I head off to the 'loo and try to clean up as best I can. It was so bad I had to get an anti-emetic shot and a painkiller shot from the Doc, but at least I didn’t vomit again until I’d gotten home.