On this blog, I typically like to write about sports-related topics, but I do occasionally dip into funny life stories. The first part of this vomit story series (which you can read here) was just something that I thought was a collection of funny happenings pertaining to vomit. Little did I know that it would be my most viewed blog post thus far! I was astonished by two things:
1. That I was starting to be picked up by major search engines such as Google and Yahoo.
2. That the top 4 searches for people who found my blog on a search engine were “vomit”, “people vomiting”, “projectile vomiting”, and “Brian Wilson”
Back on subject, when we last left off, I was leaving the land of elementary school where vomiting in public was not entirely humiliating, but not something you wanted to develop a reputation for. Unfortunately, in 8th grade, a peer of mine did just that.
2003: Upchucking Upstairs
Good ol’ West Middle School left me a lot of memories. The crushes I had, the friendships I made, the funny times that were had: All are things that I will still periodically recall to this day.
In our middle school, the 8th graders had class almost exclusively in the upstairs hallway. Except for the science classes which were in the other segment of the school. Being at the end of the alphabet meant that my homeroom was in a science classroom. So basically, in the mornings, I had to go upstairs to go to my locker then walk to the other side of the school for homeroom.
One particular morning, I had arrived at school and walked upstairs. Now usually, there were groups of people gathered around the lockers shooting the shit until homeroom began. But I felt like I had arrived right when someone was about to commit a crime.
Everyone began fleeing to their homerooms and screaming in disgust. Mass chaos ensued. I had no idea what was going on until I gazed further down the hallway and saw a guy, who will be referred to as “K” for the purpose of anonymity, ejecting his breakfast all over the floor. I’ve always thought K was a nice guy, but people made fun of him for whatever reason. This incident certainly wasn’t going to help. As I watched the puddle of orange juice and cereal begin to spread, I quickly left and headed straight for my homeroom.
2004: Lurching in the Lunchroom
In our middle school, we had to pick where we wanted to sit in the lunchroom on the first day of school, and then you were forced to sit there for the rest of the year. You also had to sit with your “Team” (each grade had three Teams each of which had 5 teachers) so basically you ate lunch with the people you had class with (as I type this, I’m realizing how ridiculous segregating people based on an arbitrary number really is).
I was on Team 7 for 8th grade, and most of my friends were as well. So there was almost always copious amounts of laughter and shenanigans during everyone’s favorite 30 minute period. One such shenanigan happened two tables across from us at a “Team 8 table.” Someone at the table dared a guy to drink as many of those pints of chocolate milk that he could. You can probably see where this is going. Since nobody kept a lot of money on them in 8th grade, the guy who placed the dare went around to each table and asked for change to buy more milks. If you’re keeping score at home, the same educators and supervisors who strictly separated us into tables based on numbers didn’t say anything to a kid who was buying 14 pints of milk.
As the guy is carrying the milks back to the table, everyone is staring at this point. The little moments like these are what can make or break you as a middle schooler. Drink 14 milks in one lunch period? You’re a champion of champions. Fail to do so after drawing everyone’s attention? Social suicide.
And so it began. Each milk was opened by a third party as to avoid the frustration for the drinker of having to pull back the flaps, pinch that soggy cardboard together and tear open the mouth piece of each pint. As we all sat and watched, all you could hear were shallow whispers. I felt as if we were watching a perfect game. No one wanted to acknowledge what was going on, but you knew damn well that this was special.
Milk after milk, the drinker chugged along not giving in to what was certainly a full stomach. As he downed number 10, a loud sigh of relief echoed throughout the cafeteria. Each sip now evoked a sense of anticipation. He was going to do it. You just knew.
Number 11 was finished. Number 12 soon after. The last drops of number 13 were consumed and the cardboard container was placed along with 12 others at the end of the table. Here we were ladies and gentleman. One pint away from immortality. It brings to mind a funny Simpsons quote where Homer is going for a perfect 300 game in bowling and Kent Brockman says, “This is it folks, the ball that will determine whether Homer Simpson rolls a perfect game, or a pathetic 290-something.”
As he began to drink, everyone leaned forward on their lunch bench to witness history. There would be no drama here. The drinker polished off the 14th pint and got a wild applause from the onlooking crowd (in reality, it was more of a smattering of “Nice work, dude” from a few people but let’s ignore that).
Unfortunately his glory would not last long. He soon began to heave and then spewed all 14 glorious chocolate milks all over the white lunch tables. The funniest scene of it all was watching the empty milk cartons at the end of the table get washed onto the floor like a flood destroying levees. The guy was helped off to the nurse and as I watched him exit, I was watching a guy who sacrificed it all to give us some lunch room entertainment. The story doesn’t end here though…
2004: Lurching in the Lunchroom: The Aftermath
While the drama of a guy striving to drink 14 chocolate milks was unfolding in front of me, I was sitting at the same table as K, who was mentioned in the first story of this post. Fast forward to his heroic exit, and the lunch ladies were already cleaning up the nasty brown puddle he had left behind. It was a bit unnerving to watch the cleanup, so I just tried to focus on our conversation. Unfortunately, K did not.
His mom had brought him Burger King that day, so he had the BK bag still on the table. The next thing I know, he grabs the bag and pukes his Double Whopper with cheese into it. Everyone at our table immediately runs as if a bomb had been dropped. As I’m moving away from the table, I start coughing and dry heaving and one of the lunch ladies comes over to me and says “Well at least you got it in the bag honey.” Fearing for my dignity, I quickly point out that it was indeed K, and not me, that further polluted our lunchroom. K, once again, had vomited in front of a large group of people. Although this time, there wasn’t a huge mess to clean up. When I went to lunch that day, I had no idea that all these events were set to unfold.
Look for the exciting conclusion! Middle school ended with a bang. 3 vomit stories in the 8th grade alone. Funnily enough, my last stories all happened in my senior year of high school. Obviously, college brought me vomit stories, but nothing that noteworthy to be included. In addition, you may have realized that there no stories of me vomiting in this edition. Rest assured, that I will indeed be the subject of a vomit story or two in the finale of this series.