Spoiler alert! We’ll be talking about “chuck” in this article. You know. Upchuck? Puke? Hurl? Heave? Retch? I’m sure you get where I’m going, here. Be warned, if you’ve got a sensitive constitution, best click here to view something a bit more pleasant.
It’s amazing what a little bit of regurgitated foodstuffs can do to a gaggle of people. Take, for instance, what happened to Natalia and your friendly neighborhood jman while we were standing in line at a Chick-Fil-A at one of our local malls.
Paint, if you will the picture of you and I engaged in a kiss this picture for yourself. It’s the silly season, we were at a mall, and the lines at the food court were as long as the day is long (Wait a minute. I’m pretty sure that’s not how that idiom goes. Oh well. You get the point.).
While Natalia and I were standing in line, waiting patiently to order our food, a register opened up. Huzzah! In the time it takes you to see if someone else is running toward the register, some punk in a hoodie, out of nowhere, walked right up and got his order taken. I glanced at the long line on the other side of the newly opened register. A kid was staring as dumbfounded as I, at the break down of societal laws that just occurred in front of us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a young child, standing at the register next to the nefarious young punk, turn and take a step away from the counter. I watched in confusion as he put his hand to his mouth trying to stop a deluge of processed liquid from pouring out of his mouth.
He wasn’t very successful.
It’s amazing how protective you are of your kids in times of trouble. I quickly grabbed Natalie, jump and turned away. “Don’t look, Nat! Don’t look. Don’t breathe.” I screamed.
And just like that, the place cleared out. Chick-Fil-A’s sales for that particular store damn near dropped to zero for that hour.
All of us that we’re standing in line, the survivors, we stood around the ends of the counter, struggling to look everywhere but at the mess on the floor. I kept my hand over Nat’s eyes. “Don’t look, Nat. Don’t smell. Breathe through your mouth. Just breathe through your mouth.” I repeated over and over.
“I heard you the first 17 times, dad.” Natalia replied, trying to move my hands off her face. “Believe me. I don’t want to look. No one wants to look. But you.”
A representative from the sanitation department quickly made it onto the scene. Even the look on her face was one of utter repulsion. But, after a quick mopping of the floor, everyone started milling back into lines. Natalia and I, now in the front of the line (such opportunist) ordered our food and were on our way.
Nononono! Don’t give me that! When you’re hungry, you’re hungry. Can’t let a few blown chunks spoil your dinner.
Oh. And what of the punk that cut? He got puked all over.
Serves him right. Cutters never prosper.
Don’t forget to check out the latest installment of the Almost Internet Famous Internet show. Fortunately for all of us, there’s no vomit involved!
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