In front of a Denny’s at about midnight. Actually went in the restaurant with a couple of buddies after a night of drinking. For some reason, the smell in the place turned my stomach. Went outside to get some fresh air, while sitting on the edge of a flower pot hurled all over the sidewalk. A few minutes later a couple walked up to enter the restaurant. They stopped, looked at me and the mess. She said she wasn’t hungry anymore and they left.
My first job, when I was 14, was bussing tables at Perkins. One morning, my mother brought me to work, and someone had deposited their recently-eaten breakfast all over the parking lot. :eek:
She didn’t see it, and drove right through it.
I was afraid they were going to ask me to clean it up, which really wouldn’t have been a big deal; all I would have had to do was hose it down. But no, they DIDN’T ask me to clean it up, which really was worse.
As for me, I have vomited very few times for as long as I can remember, and have always managed to get to a toilet in time.
I’m going to guess red wine.
One time, I was going to a half-day conference with my boss. She picked me up and, about 30 minutes into a 90-minute ride, I started feeling awful. I was 100% certain I was going to barf in her car. Luckily I made it to the conference center, where she attended the conference and I spent 3 hours vomiting and dry heaving in the restroom. By the time we needed to head home, I was better enough not to puke in her car.
-
anywhere someone else might have to clean it up.
-
my (or anyone else’s) car.
Bobby Clarke is from Flin Flon; any Flyers fan knows that.
We had a conference for work, in FL. At the last minute someone couldn’t go & someone else was asked to replace him. In his defense, it was a hard week, new IT rollout & production problems & then at the last minute being told you have to go away for the weekend. He was having a conversation with the SVP of our largest client at the cocktail reception. Luckily he barely managed to turn his head & puke in the plant next to him instead of on her. However, by Monday he was a *former *cow-orker.
Old joke:
Only hockey players and prostitutes are from Flin Flon.
- Hey, my mother’s from Flin Flon!
Oh? What position did she play?
The worst for me was in the car while driving. I got sick (not drunk) and pulled over where I work in the middle of the night. I tried to clean it myself, but it just made me start gagging. Luckily a friend happened to drive by, called my GF (at the time) to see why I was there, she didn’t know and showed up to see what was going on. She cleaned it for me.
Twice after that I had my car puked in my drunks. I’m ALWAYS more than happy to be the DD, but after the second time it happened I had a new rule “I’ll come pick you up when you’re ready, but someone leave me keys, I’m not driving 3 drunks home in my car”.
The worst one I saw was in school, he didn’t have time to get up and run to the bathroom so he put his hand over his mouth. You know when you put your thumb over the end of the garden hose…that. It made it, literally, from one corner of the classroom to other.
A friend of mine puked on the bed of a mutual friend of ours (it was the college party house). When I asked why she puked on their bed instead of the floor (the bathroom was full), she said that it was advice from her mom. Carpets have to be scrubbed and the smell might remain, but bedding can be thrown in the wash, or even in the garbage and replaced. In retrospect, my advice would be to aim for the sheets and then pull them off the bed as quickly as possible. If you can get some extra layers down, all the better. Pull off your sweatshirt and put it down, a pillowcase, grab a t-shirt, anything so it doesn’t soak into the mattress (and you don’t leave the homeowners having to clean a comforter. Either way, it worked and she didn’t leave a couple of college freshman trying to figure out how to clean puke out of a carpet.
I haven’t thrown up in…well probably when I had food poisoning close to 20 years ago. We ate dinner, then about 3 am I woke up abruptly and didn’t have time to do more than sit straight up, then projectile vomit across the room and all over my dresser. Ugh. I still remember that violent spasm. It was quite impressive. And disgusting.
About two years ago a guy who was working for me was riding shotgun on the way to work when he announced he needed to throw up NOW. I was able to pull into a gas station but he never made it out of the van. Puked all over my dash, the carpet, the center console, radio, just everywhere. Do you know how many nooks and crannies there are for puke slime and chunks to lodge in? :eek:
I made him clean it up. I sure as hell wasn’t going to. (He was on the clock when he did, I’m not a complete ogre.)
I’ve only once in my life thrown up from drinking (it was the night that I got the drunkest I’ve ever been), but if I puke it’s usually because of a migraine.
Anyways, you know that trick where you squeeze and egg as hard as you can and it won’t break…yeah, it did, twice, in my work van. I know exactly how many nooks and crannies there are. A lot of egg went right down two of the vents. That thing stunk for months.
So in Jr High, I was in PE and we’d just finished running a quarter mile. I was feeling really bad, and told the teacher so. He said “Just walk it off” which was his response for every problem that hadn’t actually removed your legs. I started to say “No, I really…” and vomited all over his shoes.
I was called “puke boy” by all the other kids for the next two years, but I think it might have been worth it.
One time I was sick when I was little, and just barely got my head over the edge of the bed before the dam broke; when I looked down (I had a loft bed at the time), I saw the weapons arm of my Borg drone action figure sticking up from the mess as if in some pleading gesture. Yeah, try and assimilate that.
Was it a pie-eating contest? Did “someone” sit back and enjoy what he had created…a complete and total Barf-o-rama.
Actually, I am known for both frequent puking and never making it to the toilet. I have thrown up on a church pew, in Central Park, in a parking lot, in the sink, on a plane (at least I got most of it in the paper bag). Once we had to repaint our bathroom.
The last time I felt barfy, we were sitting in a restaurant. I didn’t know where the bathroom was, but it was definitely too far away. I scoped out the room for plan B, and the best I could find was a wine decanter shaped like this. That could have been a devastating experience for the other diners, to say the least.
Not me, but two different girlfriends, both after a night of drinking, (go figure). One was in a packed subway car. It was impossible not to have collateral damage, although she didn’t puke on anyone directly, just a lot of shoes. It cleared out our half of the carriage and she was able to sit/lie down until the next stop.
The other time was in a taxi coming home from a nightclub. The driver was pissed and wanted $100 as a cleaning fee. (I apologized profusely and talked him down to $50.)
To answer the OP, I suppose the worst place that is likely to happen would be in a conference room at work with important folks all around. I hope I would have enough warning to make it out to the hall.
My worst actual tossing-cookies event was some years back when I was at my wife’s aunt’s house about 30 miles from Rio de Janeiro. Her aunt had stuffed me with birthday cake and several fruits I have never seen in my life, and I had chased it down with a tall glass of sugar cane juice. We all piled into the car and I started driving back to Rio.
I made it about five miles before the feeling set in, so I begged my sister-in-law to drive. She doesn’t drive stick, so that motion made things worse.
The entire trip was punctuated every few miles by me saying “Pull over” at which point dozens of strangers would magically appear out of nowhere to watch me open the door and hurl, imagining shocked mothers shielding their children’s eyes from the horror. I think I had done this five or six times by the time we finally reached our destination.
During my first visit to San Antonio, TX I spent a day at the Gulf of Mexico and got severely sunburned. That night I went to Coyote Ugly (because I wanted to see it) and had 2 vodka & cranberrys. Waiting outside with my friend for her husband to pick us up I felt that familiar stomach turning feeling and hurled into a public garbage can on the sidewalk. Thank goodness for that garbage can.
When I was on depakote for my seizures, I would vomit for a few hours maybe 2-3 times a week. It was frequent enough that I started making sure I had a plastic bag in my car at all times (I knew about when it would happen, but exact timing was unpredictable).
One day I was supposed to go to wine country with friends, but felt sick by the time my friend and I arrived at the lot where we were meeting other friends to carpool - our friends had a convertible and it was a beautiful day so we were going to drive out there with the top down. Instead, I decided to drive home. I was about halfway to the road in this huge parking lot when I started to feel the urge. It came on so suddenly I didn’t manage to get my face all the way into the bag when I started hurling. It got all over my steering wheel, my skirt and into the cloth seats.
It was actually hardest to get out of the steering wheel cracks and crevices. Cloth seats can be steamed. Steering wheels, sadly, cannot.
Being brought home from the hospital 3 days after I was born. Mom fed me, dad hit a patch of turbulence. He sold the piper cub shortly after because ’ with another kid we need a bigger plane’ and me luging used milk all over the passenger compartment had nothing to do with the decision, honest … =)
As a kid/adult, migraine hit me in the year I was in public school as opposed to private school, I told them I had a migraine and needed to go home. All over the principals desk, the paperwork, the principal … oddly enough, after that I got believed when I said I had a migraine and needed to go home. At least as an adult, in the 90s they developed better meds and they more or less tapered off [or at least the hormonal based ones, I still get stress and environmental ones.]
As a teacher in a parent teacher conference…
I had spent the past two days caring for my very sick little one who had a nasty stomach bug. But I felt fine, so I headed in to work for a few hours of evening conferences.
As the night wore on I felt worse and worse. I very nearly lost it several times in front of parents. In a rather amazing bit of luck, my second to last conference of the evening ended a bit early. I quietly closed my door, grabbed my trash can, and let loose.
My last parent of the evening came by shortly after only to be greeted by a bunch of teachers and administrators who stopped by to check on me and to see if what they had heard was true, that I really puked in my room during parent conference night. I offered the parent my apologies and a grade printout, but he was too afraid to set foot past the doorway. I gained major props that night for sticking it out as sick as I was.
One of my worst memories. I was sitting on the can having a bout of terrible, explosive diarrhea when it became certain I was going to vomit as well. Both at the same time.
Don’t know if I did both at the exact time, but close enough that I couldn’t use the same receptacle for both.
Thank God that the bathroom wastebasket was in reach.
<<shudder>>
Win.