Smelly Couch - Statutory Bathing

So it's been a few days since the puke incident. I feel kind of bad blasting that kid in my last post. He wasn't acting stupid or disrespectful when he threw up, he looked like he was feeling pretty bad, actually. But still, after five days and multiple cleaners applied to various parts of my living room, my apartment still has a faint, pungent vomit smell. Even after half a bottle of febreeze, a pack of incense, grilling with the patio door open and sauteing onions, I can STILL smell it. I can't afford to rent a rug doctor right now, otherwise I would. Anyway, we're still waiting for him to contact us about some form of compensation, at least throw me $13 for the carpet cleaner and Febreeze. This reminds me of a story...



My senior year in high school, I made friends with this freshman. We were both in band, and for the first few months of the school year, we spent practically every weekend on a bus going to football games and competitions. So she quickly became part of my group of friends and thus got invited to our parties. We were actually a pretty tame group of kids, me being the most uptight, threatening to tell peoples' parents if they so much as smoked a joint (I know, IRONIC! but that's a different post) so basically everyone drank Smirnoff Ice because that was the big thing back then and a couple people made drinks in the blender as if they new how. I didn't drink, I just liked to be in the loop. One of my good friends had the house to herself for a weekend and decided to get together a bunch of money and have her cousin buy her as much alcohol as she could afford. So, my boyfriend (now my husband) and I invited our freshman to go with us, because she was really cool and her parents were really cool so it's not like we had to sneak around.

So the party is underway and I happened upon an OG Nintendo complete with Duck Hunt so that was keeping me busy for a while. My freshman was off being social and I told a bunch of people "Do not let her drink a lot, she has to be ready for brunch in the morning!" And I went back to my video games...

I can't recall how much time had passed, but all of sudden there's a loud thud on the other side of the door to the room I was in. I opened the door and there's my freshman laying in and covered with her own bright pink margarita puke. Yum. Oh yeah, so my sister in law was also at this party, only a year younger than me and barely 100 pounds she could hold her liquor like no body's business. She's drunk and passing out, and Freshie's drunk and throwing up. I had my dad's Jimmy that night, so we folded down the back seats, lined the inside with black trash bags and load the two drunkies up. My poor SIL is passed out and getting barfed on, while Fresh has got her hands all in the window! I kept saying "Put your fucking hands down! We'll get pulled over and I'll be arrested!" and she's going "I'm sorry, Shalene. I love you!" sigh....

We get back to my place and BF helps me get Freshie into the bathroom and he takes his sister home in my truck, with NO driver's license. Meanwhile I'm figuring out how to de-barf Freshie. She's too drunk to stand, and she's taller than me, so I don't want us both to go down and whack our heads on the tub. Then there's the whole I'm 18, she's not and I've got to get her naked and into the bath. I'm like "Am I going to get into trouble for this?" ha ha ha so.......I say 'Fuck it' and get her out of her nasty puke ensemble and coax her into the tub. The whole time she's still saying "I'm sorry, Shalene. I love you" as I'm scrubbing her up and washing her hair like a toddler. Got her out, dried her off and put her in some of my PJs to sleep it off. The next morning she wakes up in different clothes like "What the fuck happened?" and I still got her home in time for brunch. Yes!!! Victory! The end of the school year she writes in my yearbook "...Thanks for, yeah. Let's never talk about that." I graduated and lost contact with her, but I hear things every once in a while and wonder what she's up to.

Anyway, the point of that story is, everyone's got to deal with a little puke from their friends every once in a while. And while I'm still pretty pissed about my couch and my carpet, I am very grateful to the friend who helped clean it up. Because I know how it is. I do have to say this though: No body's ever had to clean up my puke. And I hope they never do. ;-)

Pineapple Express

So, being a partaker of fine herb, I was so excited to see the trailer to Pineapple Express back in May. I waited all summer posting little notes that said " ___ Days to Pineapple Express" and drawing little pineapples on my calendar. I even made a Pineapple Upside Down Cake (with infused butter if you know what I mean) for the occasion. Friday night, the movie is at 10:20. A little after 9, two of my husbands co-workers come over to smoke a little before we go to the movie. You can't go see a stoner movie all clear-eyed and shit! It's just not right.

So we're chillin and talking, and one of the coworkers asks if his friend can join us. Normally we'd discourage outsiders tagging along, but we had met this kid and he was nice and more importantly packed his own goods. Kid comes over, we continue our rotation, everything is fine. I'm getting ready to serve my PU cake and I notice our little friend with his head in his hands...I'm laughing inside thinking "Light weight, you don't even belong here." Seriously, this kid had like 10 year old lungs. 10 o'clock, everyone is cleaning up their cake dishes and we're getting ready to leave when all of a sudden.....BLUUUUGHHHH!!!! Kid pukes all over my fucking carpet and a little on my couch.



Here we are, minutes away from seeing the movie I've waited ALL SUMMER to see and now I have to deal with a puke pile in the middle of my living room. For a couple seconds we all sat around wondering if that had really happened. I grab a few towels, run them under water and hand them to someone else. I didn’t invite this kid, I don’t know him, I sure as hell didn’t give birth to him, so I’m not cleaning his ass up.

Soooo…..rather than be rushed and miss the first part of the movie, we decide to go to the 11:30. That gave me enough time to run to Vons for some Woolite and Febreeze. At this point, I don’t even want to go anymore. I didn’t want to be cunt about it, well no, I DID want to be a cunt about it, but instead I just said “It’s okay, we can clean the rug, blah blah blah…” when I really want to say “Are you fucking serious?! Two hits and you puke on my rug? You couldn’t tell it was going to happen? What are you, like 5? Jesus H!”

We went to the later showing and left him sleeping on my other couch that he didn’t puke on which now smells like puke because HE smelled like puke. Sigh…..so the whole rest of my weekend was shot because we couldn’t for the life of us get rid of the puke smell completely. I mean, the kid puked like 3 feet away from where we EAT EVERY DAY!! I wonder if he even realizes how much trouble he was. “Sorry for the rug.” Well buddy, how about my couch? My weekend? My future meals? Are you sorry for ruining those too? I won’t even mention what a bad name he gives our counter-cultural lifestyle… This kid’s license to bong has been officially revoked.