Well, I have to admit, Monday AM was my first and only time and so my friend who traveled with me sent THIS email out to the recently partying gang of 7 who flew 3 separate flights out to Whistler/Blackcomb, BC, Canada for a short ski trip with old friends... He writes my name in it so I changed it to MM for FT purposes. And, it gets a bit graphic but you may find yourself laughing as much as I did when reading it!...


After the chi-town ORD cancellation (which confirms I'll never fly thru there again) and subsequent drunken stupor at the Airport Wyndham's sports bar, we miraculously make it onto the plane the next morning, heads spinning and bodies sweating booze. Just as the plane is picking up speed for takeoff, I hear a bone-chilling sound coming from next to me. It sounded like a wild animal getting strangled and banged in the anoos with a wire brush simultaneously.

The entire section of our plane looks over and gasps in abject horror as MM pukes violently and repeatedly into the little blue United bag. Despite being cold, I frantically turn my air vent on full blast to avoid any waft of vomit and a certain chain reaction, a "barf-o-rama" if you will. As the plane climbs, he finishes and hits the button. The stewardess is visibly pissed when she shows up and says "this better be important--to make me come up here during a climb!" in a stern tone of voice. MM simply holds up the overstuffed satchel of puke.

Turning white at the sight of the bag, her expression went from one of pure anger to one of absolute disgust in an instant. The moment seemed to linger for aeons as I sat between the two of them, then she reluctantly took the vomit-laden bag and disappeared. It was truly one of the sickest things I've ever witnessed; the only way to surpass it would've been to puke ON someone in the line who works for the TSA (MM later said he could have done that at will, but was trying to fight off getting sick).

Later in the flight, the stewardess came back and the situation was smoothed over and ended up with her showing us her laminated copy of a recent Chicago Tribune article about Newt Gingritch rationalizing cheating on his wife while hounding Clinton for the BJ. Priceless. Equally priceless, I might add!

Upon arrival in Boston, we separate but MM claims his sleep pattern is still completely off, his numerous daily bowel movements have the appearance of some semiflourescent, putrid coral in a stagnant pond of pisswater, and his whole body hurts, and his fingers continue to shake as he types anything...daydreaming of Whistler girls, booze, Whistler snow, sushi fests, sick terrain, good vibes and good times with great friends...

(I'm still feeling sick so maybe it was those new passport rules making me vomit!)

Bob
MM

So, have YOU been sick on a plane?...