Food Poisoning And Toilet Brushes

Food PoisoningIf you’ve never had it, you have no idea what you are missing. Imagine your worst hangover. Now multiply it by about a million. Then stick an ice pick in your eye and fall down a flight of stairs while an angry biker beats you about the head and shoulders with a bag of nickels. You’re starting to get the idea.

I had food poisoning. I knew exactly how I got it. After cleaning numerous raw shrimp, I consumed finger food. I did not wash my hands between the shrimp-cleaning and the food-eating. I was beer-drinking. I poisoned my own stupid, drunken self. And I paid the price…and then some.

The really pathetic thing about being poisoned is that both ends of your body require the use of the same space, often at the same time. And while you really really want to put your head over the toilet bowl before you hang your ass over it, it’s not always practical to do so. Eventually you realize that it’s a moot point. Your face is exactly where your ass was moments ago.

So there I was, curled up on the bathroom floor, shivering, sweating, gathering enough strength for the next round of the head/ass toilet dance, when it occurred to me – this bathroom was really clean. It was spotless. It smelled of cleaning agents. Of all the bathrooms in the world to spend eight miserable hours, thank God I got this one.

My beautiful, goddess wife had cleaned the bathroom the previous evening.

A few hours into the ordeal, I noticed something else. My wife had left a large plastic cup out for me. Eventually I used this cup to take sips of water. Of course, the water came right back up; but still, it was nice. Food poisoning is dehydrating.

As the hours wore on, I was able to take deeper drinks of water – drinks that stayed down. I drank a lot of water. The cold sweats subsided. I was able to walk again. I was able to breathe without getting nausea and open my eyes without pain. I had thoroughly violated the newly-cleaned bathroom, but it was over.

The next day, my wife-goddess asked me about my ordeal. It was the worst conversation I have ever had in my life.

“Where did you find that plastic cup?”

“Oh, I thought you left it out for me to use.”

“Dear, that’s the cup I keep the toilet brush in. I must have left it out when I was cleaning the bathrooms. You didn’t drink out of it did you?!”

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