The Bald Head
One of our Cuba "adventures" was a day trip to Havana. Unfortunately the bus left at 6 a.m. and not only were we both supremely hungover, but I am hypoglycaemic and there is something about the morning that seems to spark it into high gear - i.e. the fact that I haven't eaten for at least six hours.
So my wife is trying to make me bring food for the bus, and at this moment I'm pretty sure my hangover is going to win, so I don't give a shit about the bus or eating. I just want to get there. Danielle and I climb onto the bus and the only two seats left are the two seats directly behind the bus driver.
Let me remind you that this is Cuba, and so there is no divider between the bus driver and us. And so his big, gleaming bald head is directly in front of us.
So we start off. And the more we bounce around on this bus, the more I start to feel sick. I am holding it in for dear life, when I realize, I am going to puke, and it is going to be soon.
"Please pull over!" I say, leaning the 2 inches forward towards the bus driver. "I'm going to puke!"
"You'll be fine," he says, brushing me off. "The road's just bumpy."
"No SERIOUSLY sir," I say, knowing the time is near. And then I open my mouth to say something else and feel the vomit rising in my chest. I put my hands over my mouth to try and minimize the damage.
Unfortunately this does nothing but cause the vomit to project out the sides of my hands, onto Danielle's face (luckily somewhat protected by sunglasses) and most of it directly onto the bus driver's shiny bald head.
How he didn't crash I'll never know, but he slams on the brakes, and opens the door and I run out of the bus, still puking, while Danielle follows me laughing hysterically.
Finally, I'm finished, and have to walk back onto the bus and face a busload of 40 or so people.
I walk back on, and see the bus driver wiping the puke off his bald head with a piece of paper towel.
From that moment on I was known only as "barf girl".