This is a very funny read!
*Note: Not for the squeamish.
On the second day of our 4 day wedding festivities, we had eaten some uncooked chicken, and although we didn’t know it at the time, the sickness was setting in.
Day 3 -The Wedding Night:
Russia was feeling ill all day. We arrived at Banyan Villa one last time in complete Indian garb (Dhotti’s ‘n shit) and got turban things put on. Then we (grooms side) all drove out to the wedding. When we got there, we parked and got set up down the street. Ashish (the groom) got on a horse and we danced with live musicians into the wedding. It was super cool. Food and drink, yet again, were fantastic (even though there was no booze and all the food was vegetarian).
Towards the end of the night, I started going green. The chicken at the BBQ yesterday had finally caught up with me. As casually as I could, I got up from my seat around the fire, and started for the main entrance to the wedding grounds. My eyes darted from side to side, searching frantically for a closer way out, or a tree or bush to hide behind. No luck. Face as pale as the moon, and mouth salivating like dog before a meal, I hurried for the entrance (or in my case: exit). Time is of the essence here, I know I’m merely seconds away from making it rain all over this wedding. I reached the start of the red carpet and increased my speed, knowing that any moment…
…And then it happens. With one big squeeze, my stomach convulses and the most recent 10 ounces of food and drink that I consumed are propelled from my throat, straight at the back of my lips. As the liquid is coming up, I keep my mouth closed… mostly. Like water balloons, my cheeks are puffed out to the max, but were still no match for the power of the Salmonella induced convulsion that occurred. Two ounces squirt from my lips, and for a second, time seems to go completely still as it plummets in slow motion, down, down… until shplwhkk (please pronounce as spelled) my projectile vomit strikes the red curtain and the cement below it. I officially just puked on wedding decorations. Luckily for me it was only two ounces over my max capacity. The other 8 ounces were still firmly lodged in the confines of my cheeks. The road I needed to get to was about 12 feet away. Not only that, but there were people there… Indian people… from the wedding… I really don’t want these people to see me puke all over the wedding. I’ve never seen them before and I don’t even speak the same language. I would be SO embarrassed! Just then, my stomach gives its little ‘two-second’ warning that it’s about to convulse again. These people were in the middle of a conversation with a taxi driver or something so I took a sharp left and as I was walking away from the people, it happened. The second wave of inside juices erupted from my stomach, shot through my epiglottis and crashed right into the first wave that was still on standby in my cheeks, and caused both waves to explode out of my mouth like a voracious firehouse of masala tonic. I just kept walking… Approximately every 8 steps, I would let out another stream of puke until I had traveled at least 40 steps. Then I stopped where I was. I was far enough away now, and I let everything else out until I was ready to go back. Apparently I was not seen. We left the wedding shortly after, and I puked two more times on the drive home
Thus concludes my night at the wedding. The rest of the night shall be left to your imaginations… It’s a little too graphic for blogs 😀