Hurricanes are not for the weak

It hit me like a mac truck, knocked me out, and put me through one of the worst 24-hour periods of my life.

It was a hurricane, rather several of them.  This was not the kind that is tracked by the Weather Channel.  It was completely self-induced and easily avoidable, but I went head-long into the eye and did not look back.

I was one of the few female executives in a homebuilding company, attending a convention in Orlando with three male company vice presidents.  They were very nice guys and wanted to have a good time on the company dime.  So, after the day’s business seminars, we had a couple of required meet-and-greets, which offered weird appetizers and not enough food in general.  Then the guys wanted to check out the bar scene.

I was not an ingénue to the drinking world.  This was not even by first hurricane, but you would have thought it was based on my two fatal errors.  First, eat before you drink.  Next, don’t try to keep up with people who have more weight and size.

We had a great time at some clubs, listening to music.  And they kept ordering rounds…of hurricanes.  I didn’t want to seem like the only girl, even though I was.  So, I kept drinking.

At first, I was only a little dizzy and a little disoriented.  Making my way to the bathroom felt like I was lost in a fun-house of lights and mirrors with titled floors and hallways that led nowhere.  It took a long time, but I made it through the round-trip journey unscathed.

The van ride back was another kind of trip.  It was like an out-of-body experience in virtual slow motion.  My hands and head felt heavy and difficult to lift.  Then I was suffocating, like all the air was taken out of the van, so I opened the window and moved my head into the soft warmish winter Florida breeze.  Suddenly… well, it was unpleasant to say the least.

Wholly aware and totally humiliated, I made my way to my room and proceeded to spend the night in the bathroom praying to the porcelain god and verbally admonishing myself repeatedly for being so stupid and being old enough to know better.

The morning came with sunshine outside but not inside for me.  But I had a job to do, so I attended my seminars with as much coherency as I could muster.  I felt nauseous all day and practically drank my body weight in water.

That night, we were scheduled to go to a Stevie Nicks concert.  It was the event of the convention and I was really looking forward to it.  Still embarrassed from my prior night’s intestinal pyrotechnics and still sick to my stomach, I told the guys I wasn’t feeling well and stayed all night in bed and ordered plain mashed potatoes from room service, wallowing in my own idiocy.

Gentleman as they were, the three veepees never spoke of the events to me or anyone else.  Apparently, what happened at the convention, stayed at the convention.

As for me, I learned a valuable lesson – stay away from Hurricanes.