Friday, October 18, 2019
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I have many stories about Joel but this one is the best….
We decided to go to and hang out in Niagara Falls one day nearly 16 years ago. After dropping off my Aunt Maria at the Toronto Airport we found an exquisite Italian restaurant, had a delicious dinner then smoked some fine cigars with dessert. We got into my 1999 Honda Accord and I immediately began to feel nauseous from the heavy meal followed by a smoking a potent Cuban. I wanted to pull off the road but there was considerable traffic that evening on Lundy's Lane. I began to vomit all over the dashboard and steering wheel trying hopelessly to hold it all back with my left hand. I tried to aim the second burst out the window while making a left hand turn into a Tim Horton’s parking lot, but the glass jammed halfway down, so some vomit made it outside while the remainder ran down the inside of the driver side door. There was a third burst before I managed to park the car, there in which Joel, the hero of this story, fell out of the car rolling on the ground laughing. I looked so pathetic as I exited the Honda. Somehow, mass of vomit landed on the roof of my car.
There was a car show in that same Tim Horton’s parking lot and this stranger approached me surprisingly speaking with a Southern accent, “What happened? Did your buddy puke on ya?” I replied, “No. We smoked some good Cuban cigars after a rich dinner, and I got sick. Look, I had some gnocchi and some mushrooms.” While I pointed out the undigested items I ate for dinner, seagulls swept down and began to feast on the same meal I enjoyed just 45 minutes earlier. Joel was still laughing uncontrollably and rolling on the ground.
Joel wandered off as a contemplated how I was going to clean my vehicle. We still had to cross the border and an hour ride to return home. Joel returned with a roll of paper towels and a bottle of Windex he managed to convince a Tim Horton’s employee to provide.
Joel was still laughing.
Joel wandered off again as I tried to wipe the vomit that seeped into every crevice of my Honda Accord dashboard. The odor was unbearable. He returned with a bag of items from a nearby gift shop. The bag contained a change of clothes for me to change into, because like I mentioned above, we still had to cross the border and drive an hour home. Inside the bag was a tank top shirt and pair of shorts. I should be more specific. The extra-large, pink tank top and the shortest, black pair of shorts purchased from girls’ rack. He’s such a good friend. I looked “fabulous”!
We crossed the border without incident and drove the hour-long ride home with the windows down….and Joel laughing the entire way.
Classic Joel.
