Yesterday, I exited a bar after having consumed many, many sake bombs. Do I say this with pride? No. There is no pride involved when one spends an entire night trying to puke everything but their brains out. As I entered the taxi, I glimpsed at the driver and I saw an expression of horror on his face. He knew. He just knew, and I just knew that nothing good can come of this ride and because of this, for the next half an hour, there was a twisted sense of camaraderie between the two of us. As he was driving the following dialogue took place:
Driver: You ok? You feeling ok? Don’t throw up in the taxi, ok?! Here is a bag-here take it, if you want to throw up, just do it in there-ok?!
Norma: ….ok…I don’t think I’m gonna make it…
Driver: Where are you from?
Norma: Greece, I’m from Greece…oh my God… I wanna puke my life out…
Driver: Ohhhhhhhhhhh Greece! Hercules was from Greece, no?
Norma: …Hercules? Are we actually talking about Hercules?
Driver: He was braaaaaave! You are braaaaave too! You are not going to throw up! Come on! Be like Hercules!
Norma: I really don’t feel like Hercules right at this moment…can we please stop the car..oh God my stomach…
Driver: No, no, no, no, no ,no! You’re gonna make it I tell you! Don’t throw up, keep it in. Look I’m going to go even faster—we’re almost there!
And what happened? We made it. I kept it in.I was as brave as Hercules. And now I will make the following statement:
This was, and will be my one and only entirely selfless, noble, self-sacrificing act in my whole entire life. I say this now and mean it, that just because it involved huge amounts of alcohol, a demented taxi driver, and lots of talk of throwing up it does not in any way take anything away from it.
