Being sick at work is no fun....for my co-workers!
so i came down with a pretty bad stomach virus on sunday
night. sometime right around the second half of the
steelers/patriots game. it was one of those stomach virii
that come with their own workout program. crunching abs as
you wrench out every last bit of food you've ever eaten
through your anus, and curling up the wastebasket to your
mouth as you vomit out all the stuff that can't wait to get
out. i took monday off, but i felt bad since i had just
started the job and pushed myself to work. it went alright
on tuesday, but today it was on like donkey kong.
i felt sicker than a turn around three-pointer from half
court with two seconds left on the clock, with your nuts
stapled to the hardwood floor. and of course my coworkers
didn't help too much.
"awww are you still sick? that's no fun."
with this the women make pouty lips and coo like drunk
sorority girls at some gerber baby. take for example my
"aww, nick, how you feeling? is there anything i can do for
i take the second to lift my head from my desk and
straighten a bit from my balled-up shape,
"yes, actually there is. if you could please bring me the
plunger from the bathroom and unclog my sphincter? after
having dumped 2 weeks of food in my toilet at home i haven't
been regular since sunday evening. but i guess it's a good
thing since i'd be sitting on a mound of shit right now if i
weren't so clogged up."
"awwww, so you're not feeling too well?"
"no! i feel like someone shoved 300 tampons up my ass and
about 5,000 spiked metal balls down my throat!"
"ok well, we're going to the deli today? you wanna come?
or should we bring you something?"
so i went and got myself a gatorade this morning to
rehydrate myself. by about 4 pm i was dying a slow death
and i knew that i couldn't make it without a soft drink to
help me through the last couple of hours. little did i know
that a delirious austrian is a bad match for a packed cvs.
i picked up a can of diet coke thinking that something
without sugar woudl be better for my tortured stomach. so
there i am standing in line (a huge ass line). the guy
infront of me has a shopping cart (who the fuck needs a
shopping cart at cvs)? i look at him and see that he's
obviously crazy. then i look into his cart and it confirms
it; he's buying 15 bars of soap and one tube of aluminum foil.
i stand there amidst women with screaming babies hanging
from their weakened arms, trying to read the small print on
the cough syrup they were buying; hoping that it has an
ingredient in it that would just knock their 2 year old the
fuck out, so that they could get atleast 3 hours of sleep.
i stand there.
i stand there and i'm shaking the diet coke. i'm shaking it
violently. all though i don't know that i'm shaking the
diet coke violently. why am i shaking it? because i shook
the gatorade this morning. so through my delirium i must
have not paid attention to it. finally i've had enough of
the long ass line and the weird looks i'm getting from
everyone around me.
"fuck em" i think to myself, "i'll drink this shit here and
just pay for it, damn i need this."
i damn near shriek in cvs as it just blows up all over me.
the lady at the counter is staring at me slack-jawed as i
stand there in a pool of diet coke, just dripping from myself.
and i still had to pay for the fucking thing.