The vomit hits me in my chest with such a force, that I take
a step back. My soul actually tries to escape by pushing backwards, out of my
body.
The vomit spreads from its point of impact and flies into my hair, my eyes, my nose, and runs down the front of my pants.
My body locks and I can’t move. As if in a movie, suddenly
everything goes into slow motion. I can no longer hear the familiar muzak playing
from the speaker’s overhead or smell the familiar clam chowder overcooking on
the steam table.
The sound I hear is all muffled, sort of like I am underwater
and my sense of smell has become overpowered. I look at the faces of the people
at the table who are watching this happen. Again it is in slow motion. Their
faces contort from a look of shock, to a look of horror and disgust. I can see
a man reach for a handful of napkins and extend his hand towards me.
“They’re all going to laugh at you Carrie White.” Says a
little voice in my head
Frozen and all I can hear is a drip, drip, drip sound as the
vomit drops off my face and hits the tip of my shoe. Frozen and I feel as if I
am standing like this for hours. Time no longer exists. Sound no longer exists.
All I can hear, smell and feel is the vomit dripping off of me.
I can see the table, and the woman who did this. Her head is
back on the table and they are saying something to me. I believe, It’s an
apology, but I don’t move.
Once my brain processes what happened, it decides to step in
and make something happen to me. I slow turn around and face the dining room
floor. Everyone is looking at me. Everyone is looking at me.
“They’re all going to laugh at you Carrie White,” says the
little voice in my head again.
I can see Michelle, Lois and Anne frozen by the register, looking
at me. Lois and Anne have come out on the floor to start work. Michelle is
leaving and has changed out of her uniform. I can see the look of horror on
their faces.
My head slowly moves from side to side as it pans every
table, every customer. My hands are still frozen in mid air, it looks like I
tried to block the vomit as it hit me or I was in the middle of a “hold up”
when it happened.
Slowly, I pivot away from the girls on my heel and head
towards the kitchen door. Every eye is on me as I walk. The busboys standing in
front of the kitchen part as I come near them. They too have a look of horror
on their faces.
I step into the kitchen. The polyester shirt of my uniform
is stuck to my skin. Without a word, I unbutton my shirt and my vest. My
nametag is no longer visible but I can see the Denny’s logo peeking out at the
top.
I slide the t-shirt and the vest off my arms and drop it
into the garbage can under the time clock. I pivot again and head back out of
the kitchen, this time from the door closest to the register.
“It didn’t happen,” my brain reassures me. I am now wearing
a vomit stained white t-shirt, vomit covered uniform pants and vomit covered
shoes. Without a word to anyone I walk past the register, head out the front
door of the restaurant and climb into the front seat of my car. I start the
engine. Without a second thought I pull out of the parking lot and onto the
main road.
I am heading home.
to be continued…
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.
No comments:
Post a Comment