Confessions of a pukee

Macavity and I went out for dinner tonight at our favorite restaurant - a professionally constructive dinner where we were supposed to just have a quiet dinner and go through our business plans for the year. We'd just come back from a quick trip to the ladies room, still talking when we passed this 2 men, one of whom looked very ill with his hands covering his mouth. And just as we walked past, something happened - I'm still not sure how the event unfolded. I was still happily talking when I felt this wet spray on my chest, and before I could fathom what had happened, I heard Shirley confusedly scream "Jerusha! What was that!? Did that man just throw up on us?"

We crazedly ran back in and without saying a word soaped ourselves like our lives depended on it. It was only when we went back to the restaurant with wet hair and messy damp clothes that the full reality of what had just happened dawned on me. An ugly, bald, old man who doesn't know how much to drink on a Monday night and who at that age still didn't know how much his system can hold or can't hold had thrown up on us!

It is so disgusting! I just got home and had a proper sterilizing bath but the thought of what happened still angers me. Anyway, that's all. I just thought I'd write about it because you don't get a lot of blog posts about being puked on. I have just being puked on.