The Streak

Have you seen the Seinfeld episode "The Dinner Party?"

It's the one where George gets the ridiculous gore-tex coat. And Jerry and Elaine go to the bakery to get the chocolate bobka, and Jerry gets a black-and-white cookie, etc. Well during that episode, Jerry mentions that he has a vomit-less streak of 14 years that ends up breaking because of a bad black-and-white cookie.

I happen to have my own streak, though I'm unsure of the exact start date. I remember the scenario and setting of the last time very well.

We still lived in New Jersey, which puts the streak at AT LEAST 18 years. I think I was around 9 or 10 years old, which puts the streak, really, closer to 19 or 20 years (which, ironically, makes me want to vomit).

I remember being asleep on the top bunk of the bunk beds in my room and having really weird, vividly gory dreams -- strange for a 10-year-old, I think we'll all agree. I don't remember what I ate that night, and I'm damn sure I didn't watch any weird movies or TV shows. But I do remember waking up and seeing my mom walking up the stairs after she got home from work late that night.

I watched her through my open door as she came up the stairs, carrying a to-go box of food from some restaurant. When she reached the top of the steps, I poked my head over the top of the guard rail...and proceeded to, well, cover some ground. I'll say it that way.

I don't remember anything after that. But I am 99.99 percent sure that's the last time I vomited -- at LEAST 18 years ago and probably closer to 19 or even 20 years ago. That's a hell of a streak. Jerry's got nothing on me.

But because of this streak, I'm now pretty much afraid of throwing up. It hasn't happened in so long, the thought just freaks me out.

There were three close calls that I can remember.

The first was on one of our infamous Wednesday night parties in the Fall semester of 2004. Erik, me and the rest of the usual group doing what we did on those nights. Drinking ourselves silly and then who the hell knows. I must have had somewhere in the neighborhood of 10-12 beers (oh to be 22 again...well, maybe not), and, at the time, I was a relative lightweight at drinking. That semester was the first time I'd ever even been drunk; so taking down a case by myself was ridiculous.

At some point during that night, all of the seating was, for reasons unknown to me, removed from my room. There were no chairs. I sprawled out on the floor face-down and waited for it to come. It did not. The floor was cool, and that probably helped. I made it to bed and woke up the next day, and that was that.

The next time was on June 23, 2008 -- my 26th birthday. The night started at Mitch's Tavern, where I met a bunch of friends and started off with about five or six beers. Then we moved on to East Village. I don't care what anyone says; I love East Village. I have too many fun memories there. I just love the place.

Let me tell you something about EV. They have this shot there called a blue crush. It is, of course, blue, and it tastes exactly like Sunkist orange soda. It is the best-tasting shot I've ever had.

At EV, Erik and a few other friends showed up. I mention Erik specifically because he was THE king of peer pressure. He could get you to do anything. From what I can remember, he took charge of basically funneling blue crushes down my throat. At this point, I'd already had around six beers. I'm not exactly a heavy drinker, and a high tolerance isn't usually one of my strong points.

I must have had 10 blue crushes that night. EV closed at 2, and the decision was made to go back to Erik's apartment for some Rock Band and more drinking. This is where it got dicey for me.

There were speed bumps and turns involved in the drive. I was not driving, clearly; but I do remember very sternly asking the driver to "turn slower" and "please god no more speed bumps. Find another way." There wasn't another way.

I was convinced it would happen either during the drive there or as soon as I got out of the car. Thankfully, it did not. I was belligerently excited to play Rock Band drunk, like you do, but I immediately passed out on Erik's couch. I have no recollection of anything after that -- did I wake up while we were there? How long we were there? Please god say I didn't drink anything else? How did I get home? When did I get home? How did I manage to remember setting my alarm to wake up and feed the dog?

Mysteries at the time. The next thing I remember is waking up at 8 a.m. to feed and walk Allie. My investigation the next day helped me conclude we were at Erik's for about two hours. I did not wake up, drink anything or vomit while we were there (Great success). I got home around 4:30 a.m. apparently and set my alarm before being propped up on my side in bed with some assistance.

I faced no significant threats to The Streak again until November 1, 2009. You may remember, that's the day I ran in the Raleigh half-marathon. I ran every step of the race, and finished in 2:19:51. It was a very hilly course. I remember around mile marker 8 feeling a little queasy. I'd just run eight miles and I still had more than four miles to go. That thought didn't help calm my stomach. As I was coming up a hill toward a drinking station I felt reasonably confident it was going to happen -- and soon.

I paused for a small cup of water, and I took some Gatorade with me as I left. Most of the Gatorade ended up on my shirt, seeing as how it's difficult to drink from a cup while you're running. But the water helped, and the queasiness abated.

I crossed the finish line, got my medal and screamed my lungs out in my car due to excitement. It did not happen!

So there you go. Those are really the only close calls.

As I mentioned briefly earlier, the downside to having this nearly 20-year streak is I'm now completely terrified of throwing up. It is very likely bordering on phobic. It can't be that big of a deal. People do it all the time, and, from what I understand, they often feel better afterward if a lot of drinking preceded it.

But I can't. The thought alone gives me the creeps and makes me shiver. And I plan to dedicate my life to extending this streak as long as I can.

Sorry this was kind of a gross topic. I tried to minimize the grossness as much as I could.

Anyway, check back next week! I plan to do a weekly "Accountability and Affirmation, baby!" update on the weight-loss extravaganza.

As for the weekend? Tonight, walking to a nice douchebag-less alcohol establishment with a couple friends, drinking inexpensive-but-tasty beer and watching old people dance (before I inevitably join them after a few drinks). Tomorrow? Redneck golf and a cooler of beer with said friends. If you're in the area, hit me up and come join us!

Later!
-BG