The One Where Kami Puked in the Parking Lot

Williamsburg
September 2005

This is a location to which we will return many times, as it was quite a fun week. Kami's parents were gracious enough to donate a week of their time share for us to enjoy a little vacation, and how we got to Six Flags Over History Dorks is another post for another time.

Anyhow, we check in with my cousin Jeremy and our collective friend Byron and explore the hotel. These were suites, with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a kitchen/living area. Of course, the first thing we looked for was the pool area. Said pool was a good half-mile walk from our room. Keep in mind, we were coming from Abilene, Texas, where the air temperature was easily 243 degrees. Getting to Virginia, where it was about 52, was quite a shock.

At this point, we were just happy to be on vacation. So we got in the pool for a while. Then the hot-tub. Then back in the pool. Then the steam room. Sauna. Pool. Hot tub. Pool. Hot tub

Ruby Tuesday is about to make a significant cameo in this story.

On the walk back to the room, Kami started getting what we affectionately call the "Bubbleguts." This, I'm sure, is self-explanatory. But it's basically where you have Vesuvius in your gut. The temperature change from our tour around the Marriott's water offerings had done horrible things to the Cobb Salad she had consumed merely an hour earlier.

So when my dear wife has the Bubbleguts, she knows she needs to vomit, but it's as though she just can't do it. So she leans over and just kind of horks for a while until the hounds are released.

This is what she decides to do in the parking lot between the pool and the room, leaning up against a light pole next to an SUV. What am I doing while this is transpiring? Standing, dripping, in my swimsuit in by-now 48 degree weather.

So I have two options:
a) Keep walking, leaving her to vomit in the parking lot alone.
b) Wait.

At this point, we had been married a little over two years. But anyone with a halfway functional brain knows that Option A is no option at all. So I went outside the box and chose Option C: speed things up.

Kami is an auditory person. Her ability to place songs and voices astounds me on a daily basis. So I start to think, as she leans on this light pole and spits, "How can we get this over with?" because it's been ten minutes and I'm starting to get cold. And, clearly, this is all about me.

I put my hand on her back, and start gently stroking, to gain her confidence. As she's moaning, still bent over, I make this retching sound so believable that I almost make myself vomit.

She snapped her head at me, scowled with fury, and proceeded to let it fly, all over the place. Think, The Exorcist, but in a parking lot in Virginia. She furiously vomited for about five minutes, wiped her mouth with her towel, and threw it at me, storming off to the room.

But it worked.