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I was in a little town outside of Denver on a business trip with my boss.
We were there to setup the computer room for our sister location.
You know the drill — install NT, configure network, RAID, etc, etc, blah blah blah.
Of course, you have to eat lunch even when you’re out of town.
Having been there before, my boss knew this “cheap” chinese place in town.
We went.
He had Sesame Chicken and I had Kung Pao.
It was all right.
(lowbrow moment quickly approaching)
So we were fingerfucking the computers and getting the ports all nice and wet while NT loaded.
A glazed look appeared on my boss’ face.
I heard a low rumble from his mid-lower torso — like a bubble making its way up.
I swear, I could almost see this bubble as it manuevered his digestive tract, desperately looking for the light and sure freedom.
It entered his throat and, without thought, he cocked his jaw back, tightened his lips and proceeded to belch the most god-awful spirits of dead chinese food directly into my face.
He didn’t even look into my eyes as he did it.
Is that like not getting a reach around?
I couldn’t do anything about it but stifle a gag and go about my business.
Goddamn, that was nasty.