Last night I fell in random vomit. It was just as horrifying as you might be imagining, but it could have been worse. I should say that right up front, lest the karma gods rain on me. It only got on the soles of my shoes, my pants a little and a tiny bit on my hand. But holy gross, I fell in someone else’s puke. Your brain simply shuts down after that. You can’t think about it; how can you? You have the contents of a stranger’s stomach on your shoes and on your pants, which are wet from walking in the rain, so you can’t really tell what is stranger vomit and what is perfectly normal city street sludge, and if you think about it at all while still wearing a person’s regurgitated lunch, you too will puke.
But I could smell it. The smell of your own throw up is one nasty thing, but someone else’s? ON YOU? You have to disassociate from your befouled body. It is too much to take.
I had just had a lovely dinner with Kelly Stewart at LuLu, along with two cocktails. The drinks weren’t even that strong. After we departed I made my way to the Montogomery St. station. I saw a short line and got in it. I didn’t notice the next train was still 10 minutes away, so I made my way over to a bench when all the sudden I went down. Someone said, “Oh! You okay?” When I said, “Yeah, I just fell in…” And that is when I discovered what happened. There was smeared vomit on the ground, and I had been standing in it. The woman who asked if I was okay hightailed it as soon as she saw the reason for my spill. I wasn’t the least bit mortified, because I was too busy being revolted. As carefully as I could I rolled up the pant legs so the pukey area would not be touching my skin. Then I rode home, trying not to lose it.
Lesson learned: If the line is short, and all the other lines are super long, don’t stand there. You will slip and fall in bile and other bits of unthinkable grossness. This goes for bus seats, too. If a seat is empty, and bunch of other people are standing, leave it.
