So I’m surfing the SDMB, smoking a cig. I grabbed a nice tall glass of cold water from the water cooler. My mouth got kinda dry, so I took a nice long pull from the glass of water. After doing so, I looked down and noticed that I accidentally ashed in the glass of water right before drinking from it.
I think I’m gonna yack.
Why, oh why did I start smoking again?
Sorry, just hadda share. Off to the restroom.
That isn’t as bad as being at a restaurant and getting to the bottom of your glass and finding out that your friend accidentally flicked the butt into your glass and you didn’t see it till later.
Ooh, ooh! I have a better one! In high school I knew a girl whose grandfather used chewing tobacco and spit into Mountain Dew cans. She picked up a spit can and drank from it, thinking it was the can of Dew she had set down earlier. She really did yarf. I thought this story was hilarious when she told it to me back then, but now it makes me a little queasy.
I lived from birth till age 14 in a house that was consistently overrun with ants. I learned at a young age to always look in my glass before I drank from it.
A later house had spiders. Now, I can deal with spiders, as long as they stay on the walls and ceiling. I ended up letting a spider community flourish rather than make the contact necessary to banish them.
But one morning
I woke up
and looked at the cola glass I’d left on my desk the night before
and saw a spider
legs up
inside of it.
I washed the glass in the dishwasher and continued to ignore his compatriots.
I was helping a friend do some work on a huge outdoor truss press and grabbed myself a soda from the machine there, chugged some down and went back to work. He always drank his soda with a straw, which I figured was because of his remarkably bad teeth. Later, while we were talking, I grabbed my drink and got a mouthful and something buzzed angrily in my mouth. I spat it out and was stung on my lower lip!
There had been a bee in the can! After jumping around and scraping the stinger from inside my lower lip, and pounding the culprit bee into cement floor, I heard my friend comment that because of all of the bees around, he drank his soda with a straw. The darn things liked to go into the open cans after the sweet soda!
As my lip swelled to a large size on one side, I thanked him for not warning me in advance. I used another cold soda, unopened, to reduce the swelling.
I chew tobacco. And back in my drinking days, more times than I can count, I’d be holding my drink in one hand and spit bottle in the other and take a big swag from the wrong one.
The real stunt was remaining calm enough to spit it right back to the bottle from which it came.
More frequently, I’d sometimes spit into the beer I was still drinking. And wouldn’t notice until the next sip with all the floaters.