"Oh fuck my head hurts!" I awoke and immediately regretted swallowing that stupid (mezcal) worm during last night's traditional golf weekend eve with the guys. I struggled to sit on the edge of the hotel bed; head in hand and stomach churning.
"Geez! Gere, you look like shit!" Terry chuckled. "You're paying for swallowing those worms last night!"
"Worm? How many did I..." Cloudy thoughts started to clear up. "Oooh f...u...c...k..."
"Well at least as many as the number of bottles the bar had." Robert was shaking his head left and right in mock disgust. "At least three!"
"And shots! And beers!" Sam chortled in. "Guess Amber does let you out much!"
"Here. Swallow this!" Terry handed me some capsules.
"What are they? I'm allergic to Aspirin."
"They're Chinese pills to cure hang overs." Terry told me. "They really work."
Slightly wary of strange, unregulated medicine, I threw the pills into the back of my mouth and gagged down a half liter of water. Within a minute, my headache was gone and my nausea had waned. I managed a piece of dry multi-grain toast and some strong Brazilian coffee.
"Tee time is in an hour. Let's go!" Al burst through the front door to our suite. He, Allister, Dunkirk and Morton were in the suite next door.
Every year the eight of us escaped our wives for a golf weekend at different places each year. Allister arranged our weekend in New Mexico. The resort was just outside of Albuquerque. We would play four different course over three days. Friday afternoon was the first. Saturday, we played two and today Sunday was the final one before jetting back home that evening.
I was paired up with Dunkirk. He was the real rowdy one of the bunch and had dared me to eat the worm(s). "Don't be a pussy! Be a man and swallow the worm or I'll make you wear these panties tomorrow."
Spurt on by my so called friends, I gulped down the ugly looking beast. After the first one, the rest were easy.
Now, it was nine o'clock in the morning and Dunkirk was already downing beers. I could barely bear to look at one, let alone consume one. The day had not started well either. Not only did I have a massive hang-over, when I picked up my rechargeable non-recharging electric razor and unplugged it, I didn't notice the slight crack in the cord and got a shock. Then unbelievably, I somehow cut my chin shaving... with an electric shaver.
"Pffsst!" The familiar sound of a can opening.
"Here! This will make you feel better!" Dunkirk stuck a beer in front of my face. "You know. Hair of the dog shit!"
Knowing better than to argue with him, I took a cautious sip. My throat refused to allow the liquid to pass without a deliberate effort. Than a series of events followed which unknowingly would affect me.
The green side 2nd hole, I was searching for my ball in the weeds beside the scummy pond. I was leaned over poking the area with my club. I called out "Found..." but surprised this giant toad. It jumped up and smacked me right in the face before jumping back into the water. The guys were literally doubled over splitting their sides in laughter. With a wet face and a mouth full of skanky pond water, I wasn't amused at all.
By the third hole while I was feeling better but Dunkirk was more than inebriated. We just putted out and walked back to the cart. Dunkirk sat on the left and in a caveman type of voice declared. "I drive!"
"Dunny, you've had a few. Maybe I should drive." I suggested.
"No. I drive. It okay!" Dunkirk insisted in weird English.
I took the passenger side. My ass was still in the air as Dunkirk floored it and I slammed back into the seat. There was a sharp left turn ahead. Still speeding as fast as the cart could go, I yelled out a warning. "Slow down, Dunny!"
But he either didn't hear me or chose to ignore me. A sudden violent turn of the wheel to the left sent me flying out the right. I screamed out "Ye..o...w...!" Fortunately it was mostly soft environmental with no trees, but it was wet and mossy. I went tumbling deep into the area until I rolled to a stop. Face down in some mush, I turned and sat up. My mouth was filled with a soft spongy something I used my fingers to extract but just held a stem between my index finger and thumb. I had to use my mouth to crush whatever remained so I could spit it out. A mushroom. A weird looking mushroom. The cap was green and yellow with pink streaks in it.
"You okay, Gere!"
"Man you went flying!"
I spat out as much of whatever it was from my mouth and downed my beer. In retrospect, I guess I should have rinsed my mouth with it instead of swallowing it.
Full of muck and mire, I hauled my ass out and tried my best to clear off the mess. The other problem with boggy areas is mosquitos. They attacked me immediately. I swatted at a few leaving splotches of blood all over.
"Hey, Gere! Oops sorry. Guess you should have driven." Dunny apologized.
I was good enough to play the rest of the game although my body and mind felt a little out of sorts. The mud caked dry enough for me to brush most of it off, but I needed a shower before we caught the plane home. I stripped off and grabbed a towel before walking to the showers thinking "How good the hot water will feel."
I guess feeling not quite myself and not paying attention wasn't the best idea. I didn't notice the soapy tile and my foot slipped out. I fell over. I braced my hand on the wall to stop myself but still hit my head against it.
"What else can go wrong!?"
We made it to the plane without further incident, but the flight back was very turbulent. Maybe a good thing since the stewardess wasn't able to serve drinks. Dunny didn't look in any good shape anyways.
Home safe, I kissed my wife Amber. I plopped myself down on to the chesterfield and related what happened that day.
"You know what you need?" Amber said. "Tea. Ginseng will do you good."
