Three Imaginary Girls

Seattle's Indie-Pop Press – Music Reviews, Film Reviews, and Big Fun

Last night at the Okkervil River show, igLiz and I ran into our imaginary writer pal JimiC. While we sat on the sofa upstairs and chatted, we couldn't help but (unfortunately) notice that someone has copiously vomited all over the floor right in front of the bathroom (and close to where we were sitting). Mind you, this was before the second band (the amazing Sera Cahoone) had even started her set, and on a Sunday night. Apparently, someone was raging.

This led to us sharing our own vomit stories. I realized that, to my knowledge, I have never thrown up in a bar. I'm not sure if this is a badge of shame or honor.

igLiz once threw up at the bathroom at the Baranoff and came back out to drink more and karaoke "Funky Cold Medina" afterwards. That is yet another reason why igLiz is my hero.

JimiC had some fabulous barf-in-public stories to share as well, and he promised to post 'em here (hope he remembers after those Big Gulp sized Red Stripes he was drinking at Neumos).

So yah, that's our Monday morning topic of the day: Share your own "I vomited in a bar" stories. Bonus points if you were at a show at the time (or a danceclub) and can remember the band name (or the song playing) when it happened.