Years ago, I had a second job in a restaurant. I was working there one morning with a huge beer hangover
.
Well, I went to the kitchen to load up a tray with drinks for a table of 6. I was half way back to the table when I realized I'd never make it. I HAD to puke.
I put the tray down and ran as fast as I could to the bathroom. Entering it, I realized I had been lucky enough to find it empty. I literally ran through it to the one and only stall in the rear. As I opened the door to the stall, I couldn't hold it any longer. The vomit spewed out of my mouth in an upwards motion, hit the opposite wall and bounced back, soaking the only roll of toilet paper before landing all over the toilet and floor. I actually rememeber beginning to laugh, knowing this would make a great story someday (which it has!).
I finished the pukefest and got the hell outo of the restroom, knowing that if I were caught, I'd be the poor sap cleaning up all the mess.
I didn't even take time to rinse out my mouth. I returned and got the tray of drinks and, ghastly white and sweating from vomiting, I returned to the table and served the drinks.
Oh the days...........
