I'm at my ex's spring formal a couple of years ago, and everyone's running around drunk and doing their own thing. I decide that I'm hungry, and since I can't drive, or find my ex(he was in the pool naked with some of the other people) , I enlist Mr. ChiOJenn-who wasn't my Mr. at the time-to drive me to go find something to eat. He opens my door, I get into the car, and see his Dr. Pepper bottle in his console, and decide I want some. So, I take a big swig, swallow.....and it wasn't Dr. Pepper. Mr. ChiOJenn used to dip back in the day, and appearantly, this bottle was his spit bottle!!!
I was about to die-I can't even find the words to explain how disgusting it was-but I am too embarased to tell Mr. what happened when he gets in the car. So, we're driving around and he's asking me what I want to eat, and I'm getting more and more nauseous until I finally make him pull over. I open up the car door, and throw up all over the sidewalk. It was lovely.....
I told him what really happened about 3 years later one day, when we were listening to Robert Earl Keen play "Copenhagen" (all the TX people will understand).