Barf Bags Needed after Baritone’s Bender

March 10, 2012

in Illness/Medical Stories

My flights from Hell began with fifty other people, all of whom I knew. By the time we reached our destination together, none of them would have continued to associate themselves with me had we not needed to sing together for the next two weeks. This was the Colby Chorale; this was Spring Break; this was the singing tour of California which we had all rehearsed for ad nauseam (something I would repeat many times over on the two flights to Cali) since the beginning of the fall semester.

To begin: chorale party the night before; me: Freshman; very little to no drinking experience. Beautiful girls getting drunk too. We were all thinking about the flight the next morning…  

Winding bus ride to airport; not helpful. Managed to get on plane, barely. Promptly start using that brown paper bag that I had never thought I would ever need, and needed more than one. Choir director getting major concerned; pilot finds out that we are a singing group, and asks us to sing for the “captive audience” – a few spirituals later, and we land in Pittsburgh for our connecting flight.

Absent minded me – thinking not much of anything but the dry heaves I’m enjoying alone in the airport bathroom – I neglected to pay attention to the hour……………….. fortunately, was reminded just before, and rushed to the gate just in time! Just in time to discover I had left my connecting ticket on the previous plane………… (this was 1990; perhaps it doesn’t matter much these days).

I rushed up to the lady at the ticket desk, sweating profusely (because I was so sick) and explained. She was visibly concerned, thinking I was having a nervous attack. I explained: “NO. I am simply VERY SICK.” “Oh, OK”–?!? She informed the pilot, and the plane was held up on my account until some poor schmuck ran from one end of the terminal to the other to get to the last plane (fortunately, it was still there) to find my ticket at my seat, and to rush back with it. Choir director is now pulling out what little hair he has left, and seriously wondering if he could actually make do with one less bass/baritone.

Fifteen minutes later, the fifty plus of us are once again “flying the friendly skies.” I start to spin, seriously, out of control. I know it’s no “victory roll” that is making me feel this way, and halfway from Pittsburgh to LA the pilot makes the executive decision to radio ahead to have an ambulance waiting to receive me once we touched down.

I barely manage to walk my way out of my seat, along the aisle, and off the plane. I am promptly put into a wheelchair, my vitals are taken, and I am peppered with questions from the airline, airport security, and the EMT about whether or not it had been something eaten on the plane, etc…………. I simply said: “I drank waaaayyyy tooooo muucchh”…….

Rushed off to the hospital in an ambulance, followed by a bus; a bus full of people I knew; a bus full of college kids wondering…………… wondering why they were following a bass/baritone in an ambulance still too drunk and stupid to hold a note, much less anything else.

AND THAT is THE STORY of two flights from Maine to California that were like nothing else, and has NEVER been repeated BY ANYONE (except at cocktail parties………… and at faculty parties, at a small, somewhat remote, liberal arts college in Waterville, Maine).

{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }

Edward March 12, 2012 at 4:06 pm

Getting drunk is stupid and you're an idiot I have zero sympathy for you. You totally deserved it. Hope that helps!


mike March 15, 2012 at 6:34 pm

You sound like a really boring, retarded, chickendick clown. I have all kinds of sympathy for u, cuz i bet ur life sucks. Hope that helps!


Conanti Dabitur January 7, 2014 at 6:23 pm

dear mike&ed:
this was written in the "spirit" to entertain—I'm glad I was able to oblige such individuals as yourselves that have nothing better than to make idiotic ass-umption that sympathy was sought after (as it was not); but at least you two found each other.
why not go out together for a beer and "celebrate" the New Year @ your own expense.


Dr. Sex Potato February 10, 2013 at 11:11 pm

Yikes. That sucks.


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