The Wolfpack Files

My Life in My Words

Monday, March 26, 2007

Vomit

Vomiting isn't something I'd generally talk about. Personally I feel that a person's bodily fluids are their own and should be kept to themselves. However, a couple of weeks ago I had a bout of food poisoning, and for a couple of days I felt like I was going to throw up. I never did though. It reminded me of that Seinfeld episode where Jerry says he hadn't thrown up for years, until of course that particular episode where I think it was a black & white cookie that did it to him. I honestly can't remember the last time I threw up. But I do remember one memorable time.

(Cue flashback music)

When I was younger, I had an uncle (now deceased) in India who was a judge. He was a fairly influential one, as far as I remember, and was always there when we landed to help us through customs (read: skip customs) and for that I shall forever be grateful. He was also part of what was arguably the biggest criminal case in Indian history. As many of you know, Indira Gandhi, while she was Prime Minister, was assassinated by her guards. The guards were quickly arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. My uncle was on the 3-judge appeals panel that upheld the conviction and the death sentence. Because of this, supporters of the defendants put him under a death threat. What this meant was, he had armed guards not only as the front gates to his house, but wherever he went he had a group of guards go with him.

Now, I never fully understood why there were guards around all the time. At that age I was a) oblivious and b) didn't really care since I would have preferred to be anywhere but India. On the other hand, I did find it kind of cool that whenever we'd go out somewhere, a guard would drive us, and a car full of 4 armed guards would follow us. It was kind of a powerful feeling. Oh yeah, and another reason I didn't like India when I was younger was that I always had a habit of getting sick. Regardless of whether I took medication before we left, or if I watched what I ate, sooner or later I'd get sick.

Do you see where this might be going? I remember distinctly we were getting ready to leave India. I wasn't feeling well, and we had an armed escort to the airport. I was in the car with the driver, while we were followed by the car with four other guards. I don't remember which one opened the door for me, but I'm betting he remembers me. As soon as he opened the door to let me out, I threw up on his shoes. While these days I'm bigger than your average (and above average) Indian, back then I was still a kid. And I remember throwing up on his shoes, then looking up into his face. Here was a guy who was taller than I was (especially since I was still sitting in the car and just leaning out, while he was standing) who was wearing a green military outfit, and had a machine gun around his shoulder. To this day I don't know if the look on his face was one of annoyance or understanding, but in my mind, I thought he was gonna shoot me.

Needless to say, he didn't and I don't really remember what happened from there, other than my parents asking me if I was OK. But to that armed guard who was nice enough to protect my uncle, I'd like to apologize. I realize the chances of you reading this are about 2 billion to 1, but if someone somewhere out there has a cousin, uncle, grandfather, brother-in-law, 2nd cousin twice removed or is best friends with a guy who knows someone who told a story about a brash young American who threw up on his shoes... please let him know I'm sorry.