Let me start by saying that it's Spring Break for me, which should imply that I do not get ready for the day until it's night. This means that when Emma, Holly, and I decided to go eat fresh today I was in a greasy state and therefore not going to get out of the car, so I sent the girls in with my order instead. As I was sitting outside of Subway, trying not to look any passersby in the eyes, this weirdo guy who was probably on drugs (he WAS eating Pizza Patron, if you know what I mean...) rushes out with a bulging mouth which I just know is full of puke. I didn't have to wonder about that for long because he almost immediately starts spewing throw-up on the ground in a mad rush for the trash can. Of course I watch most of this happen (who could look away?) but, in an effort to give him some privacy, I turn away before he's finished. I know that if I had just retched in a can I wouldn't want anyone looking at me when it's over, that would be awkward. But of course I couldn't not glance back a few seconds later, and when I did that guy was looking at me, seeming actually trying to get my attention. He was waving his hands in an effort (I think) to say that it was okay that I had seen whatever was in his stomach come back out. I think I gave him a little nod and then I looked away again. When I glanced back the second time, he had moved toward the door but was still looking at me and put his fingers to his mouth in the universal sign for cigarette to which I awkwardly shook my head and then looked away determined never to have him in my sight line again. But when he went back inside (he actually ate more pizza) I was looking at Emma with "can-you-believe-what-just-happened" eyes and when I swept the rest of the room that weirdo was staring at me with a "haha-you-just-saw-me-throw-up-and-now-I-think-I-want-you-to-have-my-children" grin on his face. That time I moved my head so that something was blocking his face from mine and never did look back.
You see, this is why I don't go out more often...
4 comments:
Count your blessings. He didn't puke on your car.
I thought that you were going to say that he threw up on your car, too. Goo. This reminds me of an incident involving my brother, vomit, a turkey vulture, and dead elk.
Dang, but you know how to have a good time.
That's horrifying. But let me guess...you were wearing stripies...?
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