Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Next time I'll have the fish tacos

Allison and Robyn ate together at Amigos today. I mention this because it's a perfect segue to the tale that must finally be told....Christmas Eve 2002 - one of the worst nights of my life.

It started out like any other day...a beautiful day in the South Carolina Lowcountry. Temps in the high 50's - moments spent fondly reminiscing about how fun Christmas was back home when it was actually cold, even though everyone knows darn well we'd have killed for high 50s then. Matt and I were asked by the boss to go to Amigos for lunch, as my predecessor Bryan Webb was in town with his then-finance, and we agreed. The meal was pleasant - Chris, Bryan, Matt and I all had some form of Chicken. Bryan's finance did not. Stay with me, gentle reader - this tidbit of information will play a vital role later. We all went back to work, then went home at the end of the day, all ready to celebrate our Christmas holiday. Unbeknownst to us, this would very nearly be the last night of our lives.

I remember the first sign of unpleasantness coming in the 8 o'clock hour. We were at the mom-in-law's house, and I remember spending some time in the bathroom before telling Allison that I really needed to go home. After a semi-uneventful car ride home, I proceeded to spend the next 7 hours on the floor of my bathroom. Without getting into the gruesome details, let's just say that my body was keeping me very, very busy during that entire time. I remember spending Xmas morning in bed, and having to suffer through listening to everyone else enjoy some of Allison's world famous overnight French Toast out in the living room. I still felt like crap the next day, so I called and left a message for Chris that I wouldn't be in that day. Sadly, he didn't get the message - because he had spent his Christmas Eve at the hospital! Came to find out that Matt also had quite a horrible night (the joke around the office was that the computer guys were attacked by a virus....HA HA), as did Bryan Webb. His finance, on the other hand, slept like a baby and presumably enjoyed her Christmas holiday far more than we did! It didn't take long to piece together the clues to identify villain in this drama - we got us some bad chicken. To this day, I've never gone back to Amigos. I know I shouldn't hold a grudge...but this place nearly killed me for cryin' out loud!!

The Amigo's apologists tell a different story. They claim it was some bad pizza that we had the day before, or some random stomach flu strain that had become airborne. I dismiss these inane ramblings as nothing more than not wanting to give up on a place that admittedly does have a really good chicken quesadilla.

In any case....should Allison and Robyn both end up on the floor of their respective bathrooms tonight, they can't come crying to me about it. I tried to warn them....I tried to warn you all....

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Vegetarians don't have those problems. ;)

-Guess Who

Morgan Bonner said...

Good point! I tell ya man....that night I'd have sworn off meat completely if someone had just taken the pain away :(

Brian said...

Come on, a little explosive diarrhea never killed anyone. (A lot of it might though, so watch out for that.)

Robyn said...

It's been nearly 24 hours since I ate the chicken at Amigo's. And boy do I feel fantastic. I feel so good I'm in the mood to open some Christmas presents...

Mr. Webb said...

I remeber that night very well but it was my then fiancee that spend the night waiting to see what would come out next...a hammer, small Indian child or maybe a VolksWagon...just make it stop.

Morgan Bonner said...

Oops! Sorry for getting you two mixed up. Wait a second.....did you not have the chicken?