FCN Classic: Extract Of Curiosity

In my humble opinion, the following is one of the best posts I have ever written for FCN. This is a completely true story and it really happened to me when I was fifteen years old. I am still embarrassed. Our posting it here is Dan's way of getting back at me.

Some years ago, when I was old enough to know better and young enough to do foolish things anyway, I decided to sample interesting items in our pantry. As I entered our spacious walk in, I looked around for any items of interest. The extracts quickly caught my attention. Lining the back row were many small dark bottles with exotic and romantic names like “Rum Extract” and “Dark Chocolate Concentrate.” Some tasted wonderful, others bland and still others wickedly bitter. The Vanilla Extract was sharp and left a burning sensation as it went down; the Lemon Extract made me gag.

It was a small bottle at the far end of the row with a faded label and a suspiciously inviting cap that finally got my attention. I opened it and smelled its contents. Nothing. So I took a swig. The taste, except for a mild bitterness, was unremarkable and it struck me that perhaps the extract was old or had otherwise lost its flavor.

I left the pantry satisfied with my explorations.

Ten minutes later the worst case of nausea struck me. Before going any further, it’s important to understand how our family treats nausea victims. When someone throws up, they are starved of dairy products for three days, of hard food for two and are allowed only the meager comforts of a sip or two of Sprite every hour for the first day. It doesn’t matter if the cause is food poisoning or just exercising too quickly after drinking a coke; starvation is the only way to settle the innards. This scheme, argue the powers that be, ensures that no painful relapse will render the nausea victim prostrate on the bathroom floor a second time.

This strategy has the unintended consequence of discouraging the act of throwing up. With such a powerful disincentive, who would want to vomit?

I struggled against the impulses of my body for over four hours. By breathing deeply, taking small sips of uncarbonated liquid and praying with every ounce of my being, I delayed the inevitable until just before lunch. When I finally succumbed, I emptied myself of a large breakfast and the remainder of several earlier meals. As my mother watched my pitiful retching, I knew I was losing future repasts as well.

I bowed before the porcelain god for over an hour; my abs felt like jelly and my throat like a fireplace flu before my convulsions ceased. But when I stopped throwing up, the nausea disappeared. I felt wonderful. I could have eaten a large hamburger had the starvation mandate not been in place.

That evening, as my family enjoyed a steak dinner, I took slow swallows of the sprite my father had purchased on his way home from work. Despite my earnest entreaties to be allowed to fully join the table, I was not allowed any more then my soda.

Before breakfast the next morning, I returned to the pantry to make a closer inspection of that last bottle in the line of extracts. I peeled away the label to read “Ipecac, use to induce vomiting.” Sighing, I went into the kitchen and took a frustrated sip of warm sprite.

“I loathe that low vice curiosity” ~Lord Byron