A really bad job that someone must do

At Thanksgiving dinner with Joan’s side of the family yesterday, I learned something. Because her family is very accomplished, I always learn something.

Today, Nebraska plays Iowa in football. The game is the last game of the year unless Nebraska makes it to a bowl game. The football stadium in Lincoln (where we live) will be packed. Over 90,000 people will attend. Although Joan and I have season tickets, we won’t attend. We will watch the game on TV ’cause I am such a fanatic that there are not enough psychotropic medications in the world to calm me down during the game. Since my attendance spoils it for other folks, we use the season tickets as gifts.

Sitting in our seats will by one of Joan’s sisters and her husband. While they too have season tickets, their children are in town and so the family will also use ours. Mary and Mark were at the doings last evening. Mary is a nurse, specializing in oncology. Mark is chief of gastroenterology at the medical school. He knows a lot about gastric fluids.

Our seats are a part of a block of seats handed downed from Joan’s dad to the seven siblings. So, Joan and her brothers and sisters have had sat in the south stadium for a long, long time. They know the people around their seats. One evidently is a hard drinker. And that brings to my to the reason for this post.

Some years back, Mark was in the south stadium. While you can’t legally drink at the stadium, that does not stop a lot of people. That day, the hard drinker was drinking hard. He got agitated at one point and stood up. Mark sensing disaster, stood up too. At that point, the man vomited a rather prolific amount of gastric fluids. Thankfully, the stream did not directly hit Mark, but landed where Mark had been sitting seconds earlier.

The man was down and out. Security came and helped him leave. A single person followed the security people. That fellow wore a hazmat suit. What followed amazed everyone in the section. In just a few seconds, the hazmat guy began and finished an expert clean up, making sure to put everything he picked up or used in a bio-hazard bag.

Mark thanked the fellow profusely, and remarked that the mess was pretty awful. The fellow responded nonchalantly, “It wasn’t bad at all. You should come with me to the student section.”  That, dear readers, is an example of a really bad job that someone must do.

Go Big Red (and sometimes yellow).



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