Vomit Makes Its First Appearance
If you remember, my source close to Gawker.com told me yesterday that I needed to find some vomiting Americans to score a link on that site. What follows is as close as I've gotten.
The frantic Kiwi Curling interviews last night left me somewhat tardy in my mission to watch Juventus-Inter. As I was sprinting out of the media center, I caught up to a guy who rolled his "r's" just beautifully while pronouncing "Grazie." I thought he might be Italian, so I asked if he could recommend a sports pub. He was actually American, and he called ahead to two of his friends so we could ask them. They knew of a place nearby called, I think, "Pub No. 2."
"It's good," I asked?
"It was good the last time I remember leaving," said M---. This sounded interesting.
(Because of the sensitive nature of his employment, I've agreed to refer to this fellow as "M---." Editors, yes, I know his real name. I'm sure this is exactly what we had in mind when we crafted our policy on anonymous sourcing.)
Anyhow, the story. M--- was in Turin a few weeks ago. He went to Pub No. 2 with a friend. They met some Romanians. One thing led to another. They drank together. The Romanians went outside to fight each other. They drank some more. The Romanians wandered off. The owner of Pub No. 2 appeared, speaking French, which M--- also speaks. They drank beer. They drank wine. They drank liquor.
"I went home and supposedly called my wife," M--- said. "Then I woke up on the floor of the bathroom at 5:30 in the morning with [distasteful slang for vomit] all over my shoulder."
As fantastico as Pub No. 2 sounded, I decided to set off for downtown, secure in the knowledge that if Gawker.com doesn't love me now, they'll never love me.
Blogs That Reference This Entry
TrackBack URL for this entry:
Please email us to report offensive comments.
Posted by: Quentin | February 13, 2006 09:40 AM