Floored

I should have known the night was going to go awry when I bit into the piece of raw chicken. Yeah, I know, ew. But I handled it well, and had it sent back, and all was right in the world as I noshed on buffalo chicken dip and some of Kelly's fries. I mean, if someone is going to get raw chicken on her plate, it might as well be me, as I am not prone to freakouts over such things, won't break into hysterics, won't start screaming at the waitress, and won't obsess that I will be spending the rest of my weekend hugging the toilet with Salmonella-laced bile streaming out of my mouth.

Except I did start to question the whole Salmonella thing as I stood talking to friends about 2 hours after eating, and became terribly dizzy. At first, I didn't want anyone to notice, so I just moved over to where I could lean on the wall. But then it started getting worse. Erin asked me if I was okay, and I vaguely remember Kelly asking me the same thing. From there, it is all pretty much a blur, but what I can put together based on the stories of EveryOtherPersonInvolved is that Kelly asked me if I wanted to go sit in the car (which I did, because I thought that at any moment the "food poisoning" would hit me full force), handed her keys off to Erin, and told Erin to walk me through the parking lot as she told Steve (her fiance) what was going on. Seconds later, Erin, who is a wee bitty little thing, told Nikki to go get Kelly because she didn't think she could hold me up, based on the swerving and general inability to gain any balance whatsoever, as my brain was doing somersaults. As soon as Nikki went to get Kelly, I pretty much just went down, landing right on my ass, which thank god is plenty padded.

When I opened my eyes, all I saw were hundreds upon thousands upon millions of Feet, and the bar manager right in my face, asking my friends how much I had had to drink. Kelly came to the rescue with "Um, she had three dietCokes. And she ate some raw chicken-- HERE-- TONIGHT." The woman asked me if she should call 911, and all I could think was oh my god they aren't going to believe that I really had nothing to drink and they are going to think I have alcohol poisoning and they are going to pump my stomach!!! And so I told her no thank you. (When I told my version of the story, Kelly assured me she would not have let them get to that point. Girl got my back yo!)

When I felt ready, Steve helped me up, and 4 pairs of the Millions of Feet walked me over to a bench, where color slowly filled up my face again, I drank a glass of ice water, began to feel totally fine, and everyone started sharing their impressions of what had just gone down.

Funniest version of My Fainting Story: When they asked me what I had had to drink, and all I was doing was moving my mouth mumbling something about dietCoke, Nikki thought I said, "I have diabetes." She immediately ran to her boyfriend and said, "She has diabetes! She needs sugar!! Or does she have too much sugar? I DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE!!!"

Erin said that my first comment upon being able to get out a full sentence was, "I wish I really was drunk so I wouldn't be so embarassed." But looking back, I think it was better this way.