So today I got thrown up on by an old man who didn't speak English.
Yes, you heard me right.
Even now, since it's been at least 6 and a half hours since it's happened, I feel like I could cry about it.
It may have been the second nastiest thing I've experienced in my life. The first being accidentally eating hand lotion...I don't recommend eating hand lotion that's cinnamon flavored, if any of you were ever to eat hand lotion.
Anyway, the story goes, I was walking back home from school, and I was just mindin' my own business, walking down the street like a boss, and a bus comes up beside me, and pulls into the bus stop that's in front of me. Just as I'm walking passed the bus stop, an old man stumbles out, and projectile vomits on my shirt, (thankfully, and mysteriously missing my favorite light blue skirt I was wearing earlier) and the pavement area around me.
And now I know I'm making this whole situation all like and airy, but let me make myself clear. HE THREW UP. ON ME. ME!
Do you have any idea how utterly disgusting that is?!
Some man, who I didn't even know, emptied his stomach content on my person!
As soon as it happened, I had one of those moments that never leaves you no matter how much you want to forget it.
It was the kind of moment when you're standing there in shock, and you don't know what to do, and you're body is all tense, and then once you snap out of it you think, "What the HELL just happened!? Oh dear God."
So there I am, soiled with a mans vomit...just standing there in shock. If I wouldn't have been around other people, I would have sat down, and started crying. I'm not talking about the girly "pretty" crying you see in movies. I would have man cried. You'll understand that term if you've ever seen a man cry hysterically.
I had to fight with myself with everything I had, to stop myself from throwing up as well.
So, I looked at the man, then turned around an walked away, and started going back home again. The man didn't apologize. Didn't say anything. I don't believe he even spoke English.
So I got home, ripped off my clothes as soon as I dropped my bag off in my room, and ran into the bathroom, put my clothes in the tub, and took the hottest shower I've ever had in my life.
The physical evidence of the event may not be there anymore...But the emotional scars will never go away...
~XCenedra (Su-Ned-Ra)
Yes, you heard me right.
Even now, since it's been at least 6 and a half hours since it's happened, I feel like I could cry about it.
It may have been the second nastiest thing I've experienced in my life. The first being accidentally eating hand lotion...I don't recommend eating hand lotion that's cinnamon flavored, if any of you were ever to eat hand lotion.
Anyway, the story goes, I was walking back home from school, and I was just mindin' my own business, walking down the street like a boss, and a bus comes up beside me, and pulls into the bus stop that's in front of me. Just as I'm walking passed the bus stop, an old man stumbles out, and projectile vomits on my shirt, (thankfully, and mysteriously missing my favorite light blue skirt I was wearing earlier) and the pavement area around me.
And now I know I'm making this whole situation all like and airy, but let me make myself clear. HE THREW UP. ON ME. ME!
Do you have any idea how utterly disgusting that is?!
Some man, who I didn't even know, emptied his stomach content on my person!
As soon as it happened, I had one of those moments that never leaves you no matter how much you want to forget it.
It was the kind of moment when you're standing there in shock, and you don't know what to do, and you're body is all tense, and then once you snap out of it you think, "What the HELL just happened!? Oh dear God."
So there I am, soiled with a mans vomit...just standing there in shock. If I wouldn't have been around other people, I would have sat down, and started crying. I'm not talking about the girly "pretty" crying you see in movies. I would have man cried. You'll understand that term if you've ever seen a man cry hysterically.
I had to fight with myself with everything I had, to stop myself from throwing up as well.
So, I looked at the man, then turned around an walked away, and started going back home again. The man didn't apologize. Didn't say anything. I don't believe he even spoke English.
So I got home, ripped off my clothes as soon as I dropped my bag off in my room, and ran into the bathroom, put my clothes in the tub, and took the hottest shower I've ever had in my life.
The physical evidence of the event may not be there anymore...But the emotional scars will never go away...
~XCenedra (Su-Ned-Ra)
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