Pour fool in a stall
Well it was December 24th 2001 and i was happily driving up to my sisters
house in North London from the south of england. Not a long drive, about
3hrs. Then I had the worst luck - a lorry in front of me kicked up some
gravel and this promptly shattered my windshield. I had one of the old
windscreens which would be a white blanket after such an incident. So i had
to pull over and punch it out. I did not have RAC or AA(A) cover, so i had
to drive to my sisters without a windshield in late December, very chilly!
In the last two weeks, i had also lost my two wing mirrors from small
brushes with various vehicles, so had nothing to look back with. At last,
about 2hrs late i arrived at my destination, thoroughly pissed off, and in
desperate need of a drink. I made myself comfortable in the warmth of a
comfy sofa, and my sister brought in with a bottle of red and two nice sized
glasses. I hadn't had a drink in over 5hrs, and was dying of thirst. The
first bottle didn't last long, neither did the second. We decided to go out
and get some food, there was a nice Italian just around the corner that she
went to quite frequently. Well, we arrived and promptly ordered some food
and another bottle of wine, this time a sweet white. Somewhen during the
main course, i came over kind of hot and got the sweats. I tried to douse
out the flames with another glass of wine, but to my misfortune, this turned
against me.
I excused myself from the table, and dived off to the gents. Now
this toilet was not big, nothing in London is. It has two separate urinals,
and one cubicle and a sink. Against my eternal wishes, somebody was in the
cubicle, and i had to improvise on a decent place to empty my stomach. For
some twisted logic - the kind that overcomes you when you have had too many,
i chose to be sick in the urinal. Not in the sink which would have made a lot
more sense.
I felt relieved; i got that sudden rush of adrenaline you always
get after being sick that makes you feel like you have not touched alcohol
in years. I was feeling rather happy with myself, having not been sick all
over the floor, and managing to contain it (apart from the obvious splash
back, but that's inevitable) within a porcelain shell. I was just trying to
get the final stains off my shirt in the sink when the valves of the urinals
flushed through. Water started pouring down the sides of the urinal in an
attempt to clean the interior of the urinal. It took a few seconds for me to
realise what was happening, and to my horror, the urinal was blocked with
vomit of varying degrees of indegestion. The larger bits were stopping all
the flushing water from draining, and the smaller bits were now happily
floating in the ever-increasing water level of the urinal. Of course, it
would only take a couple more seconds before the urinal's walls had been
breached, and the lighter parts of my pizza were cascading down to the floor
below.
To all honesty, there was not much i could of done. Surprisingly
quickly, the floor became covered in a diluted vomit, and started flowing
downhill, which was sadly under the door of the cubicle. All i remember
hearing was 'Ohhh Shit, what the FUCK?... Ohhhh SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT' then
some hasty rustling as the guy managed to climb aboard the toilet. He was
not a happy person. I don't really blame him, not being able to exit the
toilet until some poor soul had come and cleaned up the mess. Thank god it
didn't run out into the main part of the restuarant.
Hope you enjoyed it, it is probably my best story....
Cheers
Ben
 |
