This, That, and the Other

I am unofficially participating in this year’s A to Z Challenge. My theme this year is girlfriends.

M is for Marilyn W.

Marilyn was in the in-crowd in our high school senior class. The group of girls she was in were the untouchables to all but the varsity athletes and the guys with movie-star good looks. She was way out of my league.

Marilyn was in a few of my classes and, more so than any of the other girls in her clique, she was always pleasant to me. So one day I decided to go for the fences and ask her out on a date. And much to my surprise and delight, she said yes!

I made arrangements to meet her at a bar and grill in Georgetown. In Washington, DC the drinking age for beer and wine was 18 and I had just turned 18 the month before. I didn’t have my own car at the time, so I got my good friend Bill, who was a couple of years older than me, to give me a lift to the place and when I met Marilyn there, he could go off and do his own thing.

When Marilyn arrived with a few of her friends, I secured a table for the two of us and ordered a pitcher of beer and some nachos to get us started. She and I were talking and laughing and having a very nice time. But while I was nursing my second glass of beer, Marilyn had polished off the rest of the pitcher. So I ordered another pitcher.

I was not that much of a beer drinker back then. Usually one or two were my limit. But Marilyn was putting them down, and soon I had to order yet another pitcher. I vowed that I would do my best to keep up with her on this third pitcher and started picking up my pace to match hers.

She seemed to be fine having consumed all of this beer and I was getting a little drunk. But we kept talking and laughing and at one point she resched across the table and grabbed my hands. I was thrilled. But I was also feeling kind of bloated and I was getting a churning feeling in my stomach. And that was when a catastrophe occurred.

Suddenly and without warning, my mouth opened and a huge amount of vomit spewed out all over the table and all over Marilyn. The volume of vomit was enough to drip over the table and onto the floor just as a waiter walked by carrying a tray full of beers. He slipped on my vomit and his tray went flying into the air. The beer contents from a bunch of mugs full of draught beer fell on Marilyn’s head, drenching her.

It all happened in an instant, but from my perspective is was more like happening in super slow motion. Then I felt myself being lifted up by the armpits by two big guys and being literally tossed out of the restaurant.

There was a huge commotion behind me in the restaurant and I heard police sirens in the distance. Suddenly my friend Bill scooped me up off the sidewalk and practically dragged me to his car, threw me in the backseat, and we sped away.

On Monday, back at school I saw Marilyn and smiled sheepishly but she wouldnt even look at me. At one point, after a class we were in together, I started to walk toward her to apologize, but she put up her hand to stop me and abruptly turned and walk the other way. In fact, she didnt speak to me for the remainder of our senior year.

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