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I began my presentation.
Walking the three men through their new website.
A comfortable, interactive website that focused on their products, family history, and collected email addresses, which allowed them to create another way to communicate with current and potential customers.
“And you can see, I…”
My throat closed.
I blinked.
I had no idea where the bathroom was, but my brain and stomach agreed I was down to seconds before something terrible happened.
I had no escape.
My choices now were to throw up all over the table or…
I turned and lunged for the small, empty trashcan on the floor.
I dropped to my knees in one of the most unflattering positions possible. With my right hand I held my own hair back.
My stomach unleashed on the trashcan.
The first hurl was toast and coffee. The next thirty seconds were just me gagging on nothing.
Mr. Tomlinsen and his two sons stared at me.
When I finished getting sick, I stood up and carefully took the bag out of the trashcan. I stood there holding a bag of my own vomit.
“Stomach bug?” Daniel asked. “Please tell me it’s not that. Tell me you ate some bad tacos or something. I’m flying to Aspen after this to meet up with friends.”
“No tacos,” I said. “Don’t think it’s a stomach bug.”
“Just be pregnant or something,” Daniel said. “No sickness.”
The three of them chuckled at my expense.
I looked at the bag in my hand.
I finished the last minute of my presentation and then walked for what felt like miles, still holding the bag of my own vomit.
Once outside, I tossed the bag out and I hurried to find the nearest store.
I purchased two items…
Hand sanitizer and a pregnancy test.
I had my right thumbnail chewed down to a nub. It had already started to hurt.
My phone kept dinging, telling me the timer I had set came to an end.
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror.
How could you be so stupid, Sage? Seriously? How could…
My chin quivered.
I reached for my phone and turned the alarm off.
