Ok, here's my job for today. I have to write a post about a time that I felt really, really yucky or like this "Death on a Cracker." I want one of the mugs that has the character curled up inside a heart-shape but looking a bit on the paltry side and my friend, the 911 dispatcher, Linda, just announced the other day that she is sponsoring a contest and whoever posts the best piece about a time when you felt like the "death on a cracker" and links back to the website Artistic Intoxication, which just happens to belong to her very talented young daughter, can win one of these nifty coffee mugs. Now, since I happen to be one who almost always has a pot of coffee made and also, since I dearly love coffee mugs and really, really NEED another mug to add to my collection (don't tell my daughter, also named Amanda as is Linda's, that I said I NEED another coffee mug though. She'll tell you I don't NEED it but rather, that I WANT it. Whatever.) -and then too I had to link back to Linda's site too - ok, I've done that above here now, so let me get to work on my piece about when I felt like "death on a cracker."
When was it anyway? Gee, I probably have oodles of times when I have felt really, really yucky. Maybe when I was waking up after having abdominal surgery -first to remove a malignant tumor in my colon, then two years later, to have my urinary tract kind of re-routed or perhaps last October, when I had to have a colostomy. Any of those could qualify. Any day prior to those surgeries or the tests I had to have prior to them called colonoscopies too when I had to drink gallons of the absolute grossest stuff EVER put on the face of the planet to make sure my innards were totally scrubbed out ya know - yeah, those days could easily make me feel like I was indeed, death on a cracker!
But you know, the more I thought about this topic, the more I thought now, those days didn't hold a candle to the day I had probably the most massive hangover in the history of mankind. After all, if you can remember a specific hangover that happened to you almost 41 years ago, it has to have been a doozie, don't 'cha think? I sure as heck do!
Well, here's what happened back then. I don't remember the exact date this took place, but I know it had to have been late August, or very early September of 1966. How do I know that? Well, for openers, I know I was about two months pregnant. I also know the hangover just happened to be there on the FRIDAY that was the first day of our Bowling league for the winter season that year.
That Thursday night prior - when I really way over-indulged in alcoholic contents - came about when my former roommate, Jerrilyn, had stopped by and she and I decided we really both needed to go and "cry in our beer" over the fates we were each encountering at that point in time. She had been engaged and a week or so before this fateful night, her then fiance had decided he wanted to back out from getting married, so obviously she was more than a tad depressed. And my reasons to feel the need to commiserate with her - share the pain, as it were - well, I knew I was two month pregnant, not married, not even gonna get married and how the hell was I ever going to manage to raise a child, alone, in the D.C. area, especially on the chicken feed type wages I was earning at that time. Ok, we both had a lot of questions there and we both felt we had a whole lot of misery to share with each other and what better way to do that than by going and really tying one on, ya know!
So, off we went. But actually we weren't "crying in our beer" -oh no -we decided to do this right, we really needed to indulge in mixed drinks so for us it was whisky sours on the rocks and doubles, no less. Oh yes, we were both a couple of idiots back in those days. (Some would say I still am but I like to think I have learned a few things since that period of my life. -Maybe?)
I have no recollection as to how many drinks I had or she had but I do know this we were both more than fully "toasted."
And the next morning when I got up to get ready for work, it was one of those days when you aren't sure if you should drink a gallon of milk to calm the fire burning in the pit of your stomach or several bottles of soda -Pepsi, Coke, Ginger ale, whatever - to cut through the fog.
I won't even delve into the headache I had as well other than to just say it was massive.
Somehow, I managed to shower, dress, get ready for work and off I went. And I spent the bulk of the day drinking coffee, tomato juice, eating ice cream, and back and forth to the bathroom where I wasn't sick to my stomach - no exactly - but I sure did have my share of the dry heaves that day.
That evening though, as I said above, it was to be the opening night of our employees club's bowling league for that year. My best friend then (and still is) and I, along with another lady from our section at work, plus an older gentleman who worked in the print shop and whose nickname at work was "Old Man" were all on a team with the guy who later would be my immediate boss, Mr. B.
At some point during the afternoon that day, I had passed Mr. B in the halls - probably up coming from the cafeteria with one of my "food substances du jour" and he had mentioned to me then how he was looking forward to the beginning of our bowling team and league etc., and also, told me he had a present he was bringing with him to the lanes, especially for our team.
That evening, when we got to the lanes, there was Bill, waiting excitedly for our arrival and in his hand, he held a small brown paper bag. He almost ran over to us, so happy was he to greet us and show us our "present" for the evening. He then pulled out a pint bottle of Cutty Sark, which just also happened to be my favorite brand of Scotch whiskey then too. (Ok, still is on the rare times now that I actually have a mixed drink.)
I almost turned an ran out the door when I saw that bottle!
And years later, when I was working for Mr. B, he mentioned that evening to me.
By that time, things had obviously become evident that I was "with child" and my daughter of course, was a pre-schooler by then too. Bill was a smart man but once in a while it took a little extra time for him to process some information and put two and two together. Which, of course he had done by then.
"So Dummy," he began (Dummy being one of his favorite nicknames for me -along with Toadie, gopher and the like), "That night at the bowling alley when I had that special present, that bottle of Cutty Sark, you were pregnant then, weren't you?" And, I had nodded my head indicating his correct ideas.
"Yeah, I figured something had to be wrong because when you saw that bottle, you turned about as green around the gills as the bottle itself was."
Yep! Forty one years (almost that) later, I can believe that I probably did in fact turn VERY green because I do remember all too well just how sick I felt that entire day!
And from that point on until well after my daughter was born, if I tried to drink anything with alcohol in it, two beers and I would get the dry heaves and if I tried a mixed drink, the only thing there I could handle was ONE Brandy Alexander and please, for goodness sake, make sure the bartender didn't sprinkle any nutmeg on it or I'd have heartburn like you wouldn't believe for days after. Probably would cause the ice cream sales in the D.C. area to spike then too because milk, malox and ice cream were my favorite substances from then until April of 1966 after my daughter was born.
Oh, yes, definitely - most definitely - that was a day when I truly did feel like "Death on a Cracker!"
Now, just let me know when I can expect you to be shipping me my coffee mug Linda!