I grew up in a typical midwestern city.  The local radio station played two kinds of music....country and western.  We had as many bars as we had churches.  Some of the bars had hours 8:00 am - 8:00 pm...catering to the professional drinker.  And the eating establishments were diners, local fast food, or pizza.  The most international food on any menu was spaghetti.  Because of this upbringing, my digestive system was tuned to fried chicken, hamburgers, swiss steak, and soup beans.  Even in college, my exposure to any food outside my comfort zone (foreshadowing) was rare.

 

Fast forward to my move to "the big city" (mid '80s) when I got a job.  My introduction to food variety started with chinese.  First, egg rolls....then Lo Mein...then sweet and sour pork.  And this was good...except for my first experience with hot mustard.  I found out it was a bit different from my old French's.  Anyway, bottom line is my body adjusted well.  An ocassional twinge...but nothing too bad.

 

Then, it happened.  I got too confident....too cocky.  I began to think I could eat anything.  Silly me.

 

Welcome Sushi.  Wham.  The first time I had sushi I was with Mrs. W.  She was amazed I would try it.  After we left the restaurant, we ran by Target to pick up a couple things.  As we walked in, Mr. Gurgle (Bill's 2 minute warning) hit.  I immediately peeled off to the bathroom.  Upon entry, there was one other man in there.  I swear, within nanseconds of sitting down, a full body purge began.  Most of what I remember of the event is sketchy.  I do remember hearing the other guy say "Holy, shit!" (ha...good one, buddy).  Acording to Mrs. Bill, who was waiting for me, when he came out of the bathroom the guy told his girlfriend/wife that someone was dying in there.  My wife thought it was funny.

 

Fast forward to the more recent.  As with most cities, muti-cultural population growth has been significant here....which I think is great.  I love learning of cultures from all over the world by talking to people who have been born and raised in them.  One culture that has grown sigificantly is the Indian culture.  With this growth has come several local Indian restaurants.  Considering my limitations, I have respectfully avoided this food.  Meaning no insult to anyone....I just didn't think my intestines would hold up well.

 

Fast forward to last Friday.  My friends Kirby, DW and Pete convinced me to try a local Indian place for lunch.  Although hesitant, peer pressure got the best of me.  We went, I ordered based on their recommendations, and I enjoyed the food.  Afterwards, we went back to DW and Pete's office to complete some training....and all went pretty well.  I started thinking I had outgrown my problem.  I was wrong.  If overconfidence isn't one of the deadly sins, it should be (think I need to watch 7 again).

 

After leaving their office, I went to a grocery store to pick up a couple things before heading home.  As I pulled into the parking lot, a little "toot" came out.  WOW.  I don't think a healthy human should be able to produce a smell like that one.  I knew immediately I needed to head to the head.  Barnes and Noble was right there.  As is usually the case, the bathroom was in the back.  Much like one of those power-walkers (eg. Dan Ackroyd in Dr. Detroit)...I quickly strolled to my sanctuary. 

 

After taking care of business...I headed to the store next door.  I got about three aisles in...and round II hit.  Parking my cart in a safe place, I got to know their bathroom quite well.  It was damn cold in there.

 

Next, after getting the groceries, I started home.  Within 10 minutes, I was in need of relief again.  This time, a Lowes came to the rescue.  You would think bathrooms in a home improvement store would be nice.  You would think.  I almost pulled a "Jackass" and sat on one of their demo units.

 

Finally, after being convinced that I had no remaining bodily fluid, I headed home.  Home is about 20 minutes away, driving through beautiful Cenral Illinois countryside.  Exactly 7 minutes into the ride, I started cramping up again.  The recent snow made it impossible for me to pull over....so, for the next 13 minutes I was playing a cruel game of cat and mouse with my sphincter.  Toward the end, I was literally screaming..."Not Yet!!!!"  I made it home, ran up stairs, and found Z-Dog (10 year old son) on the toilet playing gameboy.  While I typically take pride in one of my boys "becoming a man" (sitting on a toilet and reading/playing video games is a right of passing in my book), I was in no condition to compliment him.  Fortunately, my lack of skin color told him dad was in need of help....fast.

 

Approximately 20 minutes later, I was done.  Both of my feet were completely asleep....and I can tell you every ingredient in Mrs. W's shampoo and conditioner.

 

DW/Pete/Kirby....next time you decide to go out for lunch, please don't ask me.  I beg you, my family begs you, and the local chamber of commerce begs you.  Just go without me.

 

Weimiegirl, I hope you liked this one