ELAINE: Wait until I get my hands on that George. I'm going to pull that big hood over his little head, tie the string and suffocate him. You remember that Panama hat? That was nothing.
JERRY: Uh, wa?
ELAINE: What's the matter with you?
JERRY: Uh, I don't feel so good.
ELAINE: What's wrong?
JERRY: My stomach, I , I think it was that cookie.
ELAINE: The black and white?
ELAINE: Not getting along?
JERRY: I think I got David Duke and Fahrikan down there.
ELAINE: Well if we can't look to the cookie where can we look?
JERRY: I feel like I'm going to throw up.
ELAINE: Hey, what about your vomit streak?
JERRY: I know, I haven't thrown up since June 29th, 1980.
JERRY: Fourteen years down the drain.
ELAINE: How was it?
JERRY: As good as it gets.
This dialogue was running through my mind last Wednesday night. Wednesday, March 24, 2010 to be exact. The past few days, I had developed a really bad cough that had been keeping me up late at night. I'll try to spare as much nasty details as I can, but take this as warning right now, the next little bit may get slightly graphic and is not a recommended read for the faint of stomach. So skip ahead to the next paragraph if you feel so inclined. Anyway, a lot of this cough had to do with all of the phlegm stuff that just was not going away. So most of my late night coughing also involved a lot of late night hacking and late night spitting. Through all of this hacking, every now and then my gag reflex was being triggered a little bit and I would occasionally dry heave. It. Was. Horrible.
The last time I remember throwing up, I'm pretty sure, was late summer 2005. Rachel McKendrick was still Rachel Johnson and was dating Zack. They had planned a BYOB BBQ at Freestone Park with volleyball and all that fun stuff. So of course I went. I had never really BBQ'd (My dad always had taken the reins on that one), and I totally forgot about the BYOB thing until the last minute, so as I was almost out the door that night, I quickly ran back and checked the fridge for some meat to throw on the grill. I didn't see anything I wanted in the fridge, but there was a perfectly sized (already-been-grilled) chicken breast in the freezer. I grabbed it and headed out.
I remember being so hungry and just staring at my chicken on the grill while everyone else was eating their burgers, hot dogs, and steaks. Theirs weren't frozen, so they cooked right up in no time. Mine was taking forever. I don't know how long I waited, but I remember that I decided not to be picky and just ate it as soon as it was semi-warm (I didn't want to wait there forever!). Anyway, the next morning I threw up and was sick all day. Pretty sure I food-poisoned myself.
That was about five years ago and I hadn't vomited since. I've always prided myself on how I rarely get sick. Well, all of that hard work went down the toilet last Wed night. This was not a dry heave. While it wasn't 14 years like Jerry had, I'm still a little bummed that it's over.
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