IN CASE IT COMES UP

I'm in the process of updating my myspace page and I'm writing about how we'll be having a 21st birthday party at the 'plex for my roommate next weekend. You are, of course, all invited. That's the kind of service Star Worz provides to its readers. Quick dress code note: guys need to wear either a) a dress jacket or at least b) a dress shirt. We're trying to show some class here. Ladies need to wear a push-up bra. We're trying to show some chest here. RSVP by next Tuesday if you're interested.

Thinking of my roommate's upcoming first not-so-sweet taste of alcohol (let's face facts, no alcohol tastes good the first time. Even Miller High Life, the Champagne of Beers) leads me to the interesting worry of "Where's he going to throw up?" Almost everyone throws up on their 21st birthday, so you've got to plan for it. A failure to plan is planning to fail. Like in this little story.

I was home for Winter Break during my freshman year of college. For New Year's I had been invited to Bob Schrickle's house, which was quite the honor since I didn't get invited out to a lot of places. Some of my very good high school friends were there, as were many people that, you know, I wasn't sad to be done seeing 5 days a week. One of my good friends was Jeremy. Now, I didn't drink before I turned 21. Jeremy did. Jeremy didn't have a lot to drink that night, but he did have a variety to drink. Public Service Announcement: Alcohol is not the same as ice cream toppings. Sprinkles and nuts and chocolate sauce and whipped cream all together make a good sundae. Pabst and rum and jagger and Labatt's do not make a happy tummy. Pick a poison for the night and stick with it. You'll be happier that way.

So Jeremy has some Pabst, and he has some Labatt's and he has some Milwaukee's Best, he has a shot or two and then he has, in a drunken genius move, a cup of Pabst, Labatt's and Best mixed together. Needless to say by the end of the night he is not feeling well. And suddenly, The Switch is flipped. Anyone that's ever vomited from drinking knows The Switch. It's the one that takes "everything's cool" and turns it into "nothing is about to stay in my body". Who knows what causes it? It could be a sudden smell. It could be sitting up too fast. One time for me it was shaking hands. And like that I went from master of my domain to decorating the porch bushes.

So Jeremy had to vomit, but where? He and I rushed to the bathroom and looked around frantically. Sink? No! Tub? No! "Here it comes!" GARBAGE CAN! BLARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!

And so I spent the next couple of minutes helping him hold a garbage can and reassuring him that no, I was pretty sure he wasn't going to die. It was about this time that Bob's mom came into the picture, but being Bob's mom, she was pretty cool as well and helped clean up the mess Jeremy had made and made sure he was on the road to recovery. Needless to say, Jeremy never tried a trifecta glass again.

The kicker of the story is this, and it's something neither of us put together until 4 years later when we were reminiscing at a friend's wedding: While Jeremy was throwing up into the garbage can, the ONLY suitable receptacle he could find in that scant window of opportunity ... He Was Sitting On The Toilet.

And THAT is why you need to plan ahead.