In yesterday's post on Velcrometer, M. Giant shared the story of his weekend bout of food poisoning. The commenters all jumped in with their own horrible stories of copious puking. Why? Because nobody can resist once that topic gets started. Oh, occasionally someone will come along who claims he or she never throws up, but I find that very difficult to believe.
My most hideously memorable food poisoning experience took place in Las Vegas. A friend of mine was there getting married and I was one of her bridesmaids. I made it through the ceremony and the reception, but the rest of the evening was Average Jane's Puking Tour of the Strip. I threw up in the bushes at Caesar's Palace. I threw up in the wastebasket on one of the buses (my husband said everyone looked at me as though I were a crazed junkie, but I was too sick to care). I threw up in the bathroom at Planet Hollywood (but the bathroom attendant had mouthwash so, score!). Eventually I ended up in the emergency room with a saline drip. The next day I slept all day long while all my friends ran around having fun.
My runner-up story happened in college. I was sitting in biology class when I started feeling queasy. (It was NOT a hangover, by the way. I'd had some suspicious deli meat for lunch earlier that day.) Because I was sitting near the front of a big lecture hall, I was reluctant to get up in front of everyone. That was a very bad call. I ended up puking all over my books, purse and lap and THEN getting up in front of everyone.
Okay, I'm throwing down the gauntlet. Let's hear your terrible yakking stories. You know you can't resist.