Kodiak Smokeless Tobacco and projectile vomiting

This weekend I went with a few of the boys to a Nascar race at Michigan International Speedway. On Saturday night we went to The Bone Yard for some BBQ ribs. We usually go to a sports bar called Kickers afterward but it was closed due to the power blackout.

So how do four Canadian guys amuse themselves in a Detroit suburb on a Saturday night? They go to a Seven Eleven and purchase some chewing tobacco. Then they drive around until they find a small town called Farmington which resembles Mayberry from the Andy Griffith Show. Below is my recollection of what happened between 8 PM and 10 PM that night.

My friend Gary is the first to try some Wintergreen flavoured Kodiak Smokeless Tobacco. He takes a very small pinch and puts in his mouth. Real men chew tobacco so I take a small pinch out of the can and carefully place it in my mouth. The other two guys with us, John and Russ think we’re crazy and refuse to try. Naturally, I tease them and repeatedly call them a bunch of wimps.

Gary warned me that my mouth would start to salivate right away, which it did. He also said I would get a buzz from the nicotine but I wasn’t feeling anything. “Give it some time,” he said. He also warned me not to swallow any.

We wandered around the town for a little, spitting tobacco, looking for a place to get a pint. I was getting bored with this little piece of tobacco and decided to put a much bigger wad in the side of my mouth—the same way major league pitchers do between innings before they head back to the mound.

We approached the main street and in less than a minute I began to feel light-headed. Then I began to feel dizzy, unstable, reaching for the side of buildings to balance myself. I wobbled over to a park bench across from the movie theatre and sat down as my head begin to spin. I spit out the tobacco. I was amazed at how fast it affected the rest of my body.

The other three guys were killing themselves with laughter as I began to keel over on this bench. I was beginning to feel nauseous and worried about the huge slab of BBQ ribs I had earlier. Too late! I asked the guys to stop laughing and help me up. I was going to be sick.

I looked around and saw a pot of geraniums beside a building. Leaning against the building with one hand I bent over and emptied my dinner on top of those geraniums. A family out for ice cream walked by. I didn’t notice them but the guys assured me that this family was not impressed with my abdominal strength. They probably assumed I had a few too many pints at the pub across the street. I fertilized the geraniums for a little while and sat back down on the bench in disbelief.

Feeling dizzy and hot from hurling, John found some cold bottled water for me from one of the nearby stores. I noticed that Gary was buckled over as well but it was from laughing so hard. I was the entertainment for the evening. As if things couldn’t get any worse, I realized that a severe case of diarrhea was about to finish me off.

I sprang up and staggered around telling the guys that, “I need to find a bathroom! Now! I’m not kidding guys! I gotta go!!” John found me a washroom in the pub across the street. I was relieved. The stall was occupied. John tried the door a few times when I voice said, “I’ll be just a minute.” That minute seemed like an eternity.

I found relief in the washroom and wandered out to the bar where they guys were still laughing at my stupidity. The smell of food made nauseous again and I staggered outside. I had to vomit again but my pot of geraniums was across the street and the light was red. I didn’t care. I ran out into the street in front of a pickup truck that stopped to let me pass. Right in front of the truck I projectile vomited into the street—a first for me. I found another bench down the street and sipped my water for the next hour while they guys had a beer in the pub.

Back out our hotel, I cleaned up and went to bed. Passed out is more like it.

After great embarassment, I can now say that I have experienced chewing tobacco, that it is a disgusting habit and that I’m not a real man.

Posted in Humour and Observations and Travel at 10:05 AM