Two-Door Terror

March 12, 2009
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Looking back at it, I have to laugh every time, but I sure wasn't laughing when it actually happened. When I was seven years old, my family and I took a vacation to California, and we just got back from a long, boring day at the San Diego Zoo. We were starving, so we decided to go to dinner. We were driving around searching for a fine place to eat when Bennigan's came along. My family agreed to go there. We didn't know this walking into the restaurant, but we were in for a long night.

Just to let you know, I was a very picky eater in my younger age. Accordingly, I had a plate of chicken fingers while my mom and my sister Colleen had steamy, sirloin steak, and my dad and my brother Wally ordered a rack of ribs. It was a grueling day, so we scarfed down our meals. Then, dessert rolled up. All of us enjoyed creamy, vanilla milkshakes. After a scrumptious meal, my dad paid the bill and we headed home.
On the way home, we encountered a problem: my dad had no idea where he was going. As we were driving on the highway, Wally had to go to the bathroom, but my mom said to hold it since we were in a bit of a situation. About ten minutes later, Wally said something that nobody wanted to hear.
'I think I'm going to throw up!' he bellowed.
Now, you think he can just roll down the back window and do his business outside, but there's just one little problem with that assumption: we have a two-door rental car! So, Colleen instructed Wally to throw up in his shirt, but I don't think he understood that well. He pulled up the flap of his shirt, and all of the throw up deflected off Wally's shirt which splattered on the window along with Colleen and I. Think about this situation: my mom is spazzing out on my dad to pull over, my dad is cursing his head off because we're lost, Wally is barfing his guts out, and Colleen and I are screaming our heads off as we're getting showered with throw up. It was not a pretty sight. Finally, for what seemed like an hour, Wally's throw up ceased. My dad peered back at the chaos, and gave my mom an ooo-that-can't-be-good face. In the beginning, I thought this was one of the worst nights of my life, but things were going to get better for us in a weird kind of way.
After this disgusting episode, my dad thought it was best to get off the highway and pull over. Therefore, he took the next exit while we looked for a place to stop. We found a mall to pull into, and the craziest thing happened. Ironically, as we pulled into the parking lot, there were a bunch of mini sprinklers that miraculously turned on. Thusly, we all got out of the car and starting washing ourselves off. Luckily, it was late at night because we looked like a bunch of poor people taking showers. Also, my dad took Wally's shirt that was already ruined, wet it with our makeshift showers, and started wiping down the car to clean up the chunks. When he was finished, we took a bit of a break to dry off, and then hit the road again.
On the way back, my mom allowed me sit in the front seat with her because I was worried Wally would blow his top again. Fortunately, he didn't. Now, there was good news and bad news. The good news was my dad knew where he was going. The bad news was that even though my dad had cleaned out the car, the throw up stench still lingered inside, and it smelled atrocious. When I smelled it, it made me feel like I was going to barf. As a result, I decided to stick my head out the window for a half an hour so I couldn't smell the throw up. If people saw me, they'd think I was a whacko, but they better believe they'd be doing the same thing if they took a whiff inside this car. At last, we made it to our hotel. We casually walked up to our room like nothing happened. This time we all took real showers, and then hit the hay after a long, long, night
The next day, we checked to see if the smell went away. Unfortunately, it was still as horrendous as it was last night. So, Colleen acquired some of her watermelon body spray to take out the odor. After about 20 squirts, our car smelled as fruity as a watermelon. I just hope the rental store doesn't find out that one of their cars has been blasted with throw up. In addition, I feel bad for the next family that used this rental car. But, at least their car smelled fruity instead of smoky. When this trip came to an end, the Rutecki family learned two things: ribs and a vanilla milkshake don't mix that well, and never rent a two-door car.

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