Once upon a time, there was a girl named Alicia who went to Niagara Falls to see if she could swim up them. She couldn’t because of her mad wonky food poisoning from a taco buffet in Cleveland, Ohio. The end.
This is the story I am going to tell you all, however this version totally sucks. A good story has to have excitement, romance, sussssssspenssssseeeee, maybe like a rad fight scene, and a happy ending. Let me try this biz again.
EXCITEMENT: Spring break is here, and Wilkes have zero plans. Open book. An idea pops: Hey! Let us road trip to a far away land, one that has never been traveled to by any human, let us EXPLORE and LIVE off the fat of the land! Let us find the Falls of the Niagara! Let us use a magick dowsing rod to lead our way amongst the beautiful waterfalls whilst on the boat The Mist of the Maiden Fair. Or we could totes buy stuff from the giant “MADE IN THE USA” store, that’s fine too. ROAD TRIP TO NIAGARA FALLS!
ROMANCE: The first evening, we arrived in Cleveland, Ohio, and driving four hours left us famished and dehydrated. We stumbled out the vehicle into the hotel lobby, right at the dawning of what was referred to as “HAPPY HOUR”, and lo and behold was it EVER happy: set before our very eyes was a sight that would make a grown man cry. A glorious TACO. BUFFET. Free of charge, bursting with tortillas and chicken and black beans and salsa and sour cream and cheese of the finest pre-shredded varieties. There was a bubbling bowl of golden processed nacho cheese, just awaiting chips to be dunked into. I ate until I could eat no more. An extreme amount of tacos were consumed. I say this without exaggeration, as I would never dream of being ashamed of tacos. I am in love with tacos. IN LOVE. Face smack on the concrete in love with tacos and all they have to offer. Boom. Romance.
SUSPENSE: We left the lobby to our room, full and a little uneasy. What was this rumbling in my gut….what was this ominous, nauseous feeling that started to tip in my brain? Surely, not my lovers, the tacos. Surely not….but this brings me to the
FIGHT SCENE: Alicia verses the toilet. How much puke can I get into the bowl. I felt like I was boxing it, NACHO LIBRE STYLE. SO MUCH PUKE. Black beans coming out my nose. The tacos must have been cursed, they certainly had the dickens in their eyes. Oh good lord, the end was near, but I would not give up without a fight. I just had to take turns with my husband using the one toilet we had in the tiny hotel room 4 hours from home while simultaneously caring for our three happy, healthy, wild, bonky kids. This fight continued from 9pm that evening until 3 am the next morning before my body gave out to darkness. It could dry heave in this hotel room….nevermore. I told my husband he must dig not one but TWO graves; one for my guts and one for my face.
And this is where I tell you the happy ending, but with a twist! We did make it to the falls, slowly crawled there- it was freezing and covered in tourism but the actual nature of it was beautiful and just what my soul wanted. To view the water flowing over the crest was like viewing the bile filled with chicken and black beans out my mouth and into the bowl. But it was like majestic or whatever, not stinking gross . You get what I mean. Anyway my happy ending was actually three days later, when I arrived ALIVE at one of my favorite places on the planet.
Beer City Barre.
I made it through the class and it reminded me how thankful I am for health; for two working arms and two working legs.
Let’s do brunch soon. I’m so there as long as they don’t serve tacos. I’ll be able to taco bout it soon just…not yet.
Alicia A. Wilkdogg