Seeing people throw up in Adams Morgan is not unusual. Two a.m. on a Sunday seems to get a lot of people cheek-to-trash-can or nuzzling into shrubs. District residents—-or their suburban interlopers—-have gotten pretty adept at discreet vomiting. Taking the subway home after the July 4 fireworks one year, a man upchucked into a cooler. He did such a good job containing his vomit that a friend of mine went ahead and took the seat next to him anyway.
Maybe people have just gotten good at vomiting or taking care of it.
But this past Saturday, in the late afternoon, one man took vomiting to a new level. He walked up Columbia Road NW and then hit the crosswalk at Euclid Street. Midway into the crosswalk, the man turned and vomit launched pink and red chunks on the street [think strawberry-rhubarb pie]. The spewing was quick, maybe lasting two seconds. The man did not appear to be in pain. He then walked on like it was nothing. In my recollection, the man didn’t even stop walking, he just vomited in stride out in the open on a sunny afternoon.
As I stood there in the crosswalk shocked and horrified, the man just continued up the street, clutching a plastic bag filled with beer cans.