Cooking burgers was fun, especially when you did it with your friend. One cooks the patties, one separates the lettuce, all is well. One day I did exactly that, and it was fun. The burger was delicious, and after that, I would go grocery shopping with my best friend. It was going to be the perfect day; Or so I thought.
We were at the grocery store, walked around the isles, occasionally picking up items we needed. I felt a little sick, but I ignored it. As we approached the food isle, the (sic)ness rose up in me. I found myself vomiting the meal we had. Embarrassed, I asked my friend to look for some paper towels. She quickly ran, leaving me in the pet food isle with a puddle of disgusting vomit. I stood there and waited for her to come back. A few minutes passed, but she was nowhere to be found. I started to feel sick again, and this time, ran to the bathrooms. I made it in time, and you know, vomited again.
By the time I got back to the pet food isle my friend was there, kneeling down at the spot I vomited at. I assumed she was cleaning up, so I decided to ask her if I could help. She then turned around, and looked at me.
It was horrifying. Her face was smothered in my vomit, and I could see it drooling out of her mouth as her cold eyes pierced all of the space between us. Pieces of half digested meat were on her face like freckles. I started to shake. No fucking way this was happening. I stumbled, quickly catching onto the shelf full of pet food. Examining her more as she continued to stare at me, I had made the unfortunate discovery that she had also made vomit-paper towel burritos. The burritos were soggy, the paper towels absorbed as much of the vomit it could, but pieces of lettuce and other unidentifiable objects were still inside, waiting for its creator to consume them.She declined, saying that she could handle it herself.
When she was finished, we awkwardly bought all of the items we put in our carts.
