Punch Drunk Vomit

In the city of Chicago bars are the preferred outlet for socialization.  This is great, if you are a heavy drinker as years of having a problem with booze can go by nearly undetected.  Even police have been known to look the other way when people drive drunk here.  The problem comes in when you don't drink, are relatively young, and still want to be social.  This city, is a city of drinkers.  Bars, are far less tolerable when sober, people are far more annoying when you are not drinking, and they are progressively lubing up.  

Saturday night, and I decided I had to be social, preferably I would have sat at home and watched Celebrity Ghost Stories, but sometimes you have to interact with other members of your species, as social animals, that is necessary for the overall wellness of the condition.

Mike, A big Irish guy, who resembles in some odd way, A cousin of a mafia hit man. Met me at a small dive bar in Lincoln Park.  He was already half in the bag from day drinking at the White Sox game, his first words were.

"Hey, want to do a shot?"
"No, I'm on the wagon remember?" I replied, somewhat annoyed.
"oh...you mind if I do one?"
"Of course not"
Now this is another annoying factor of choosing to abstain from alcohol, and I encounter this mostly when on dates with women.  They feel insecure about drinking, or ordering a drink if I am not going to drink with them, so in my weaker moments I will drink with them, in my shadier moments, I will fake drink so they leave me alone.  I'll order a tonic water with a lime in a rocks glass, and keep in the straw.  This usually is enough to allow them to leave me alone.

Mike walked over to the bar, did a shot of Jameson and rejoined me with a beer in his hand.  His face turned pale and he hiccuped.  I could tell he was fighting off vomiting.  He got up, ran to the bathroom.  I sat and watched, he was vomiting for sure.

Five mintues later, like a flash, he sprinted out of the bar.  I stood for a moment at the table confused.  Then about three minutes later, a large neanderthal of a guy, staggers out of the bathroom, with a bloody nose, pants half on and vomit on his shirt.

I left the bar and called Mike
"What the hell happend?" I asked
Mike, out of breath and panting said "dude, I couldnt hold back the vomit, and people were standing in the urinal, so I kicked open the stall and puked, some guy was in there taking a shit.  I puked all over him.  We made eye contact for a minute, and my fight or flight kicked in, and I punched him in the face and ran out of  there"

So the neanderthal in the bathroom, not only did he have to use the filthy toilet in the bar, but then he got vomited on and punched in the face.  That would be enough to keep me out of bars for a long time.