Questionable Acts with Food and Drink, Part One.

After writing about my nacho incident I realized that I had other stories regarding food and drink that would bring my character into question. I think it’s best to share these stories with you. Here’s part one. You’re welcome.


“The Turkey Club”

It was already an eventful night: people getting in trouble with their girlfriends for being a wingman; too much alcohol for some; people tripping up the stairs and spilling beer all over their clothes; and a random woman screaming at me “TAKE YOUR SHIRT OFF! REAL MEN FROM OKLAHOMA TAKE THEIR SHIRTS OFF!” while standing in line for a beer, even though I’m not from Oklahoma… all while taking in a country music show.

But the highlight of the evening took place after the event when we went to a nearby restaurant to eat and drink even more.

We arrived at the place and found it to be wall-to-wall packed. Understandably, we opted to leave and go elsewhere, if not home altogether.

On the way out, we walked past the hostess station. The front side was near impassable and I was drunk, so I walked behind since no one was standing there.

As we passed through we saw a to-go container sitting there. And just like the nachos, this box looked lonely, too. No one was close enough to claim it. And we certainly couldn’t let whatever it was go to waste.

So of course someone (likely to be TheGreatCon) decided it best to take the container and run out the door… what with being drunk and hungry and all.

After sprinting across the parking lot, we stopped to survey our bounty and consume whatever was inside the container.

We opened to find half a turkey club sandwich. And without hesitation, I grabbed my portion and started to eat.

TheGreatCon followed suit, but only after some disbelief in me jumping right in for a bite. And then he cried in complaint that there was tomato on the sandwich.

…A sandwich which we did not order.
…One that we could not customize ourselves.
…As if he could complain in any fashion whatsoever.

And then we went home.

The end.

Wait. No, that’s not how the night ended.

So then we were ON OUR WAY HOME when someone (again, likely to be TheGreatCon) informed us that he needed to vomit.

So we pulled off the highway, turned, turned, drove and turned, and finally found a dark place to pull over for him to take care of business.

He exited the vehicle, went over to the chain-link fence, and proceeded to gag himself.

After being unable to make himself throw up, he called me out of the car to keep him company. And then I offered to help him throw up by punching him in the stomach.

He agreed.

So I told him I would hit on the count of three, but then I actually punched him at ‘two’ like the surprise-maker I can be, which did nothing more than surprise-punch him and did not result in vomiting.

I guess at that point I got back in the car and waited for him to finish up.

And THEN we went home.

The real end.

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