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Beware the PakRest - Just Being Funny

I’m not a picky eater. Since I spent most of my growing years eating healthy food, I feel like it’s my adult right to eat whatever I want – at least before I have kids and need to be a role model or whatever. However, it’s not that time. This is my time to wild out and eat whatever I want. What I want is a basic burger, fries, and ice cream combo. All day. Every day. Maybe switch it up with a doughnut or two.

Sometimes my friends convince me to try new things. I occasionally indulge them. Usually, my fears of dishes being too spicy or gagging on mud result in enjoyable experiences. 

We decided to check the Pakistani restaurant off the food bucket list. This was the real deal. People were eating with their hands, double-dipping, and adding secret herbs and sauces. They were going all in! The one white couple in the joint were eating with utensils. As the only black person there, I felt obligated to do my people proud and eat like the natives.

That. Butter chicken. Was. Bangin’! I rolled up my sleeves and used all five fingers to pluck away at that spinach and feta cheese dish. Alright? Amen!

The day was beautiful. We passed a march for peace in the Middle East. We discussed saris and special occasion attire. As if we had a claim on the culture. After putting our leftovers in the fridge, we dreamed of round two.

Midnight. Hot flashes of pain in my lower back. Could this be the exorcism? After my third round of ghost poops, I contemplated popping some Midol. I don’t. This pain foreshadowed something more sinister. 

As I crept back to bed, I hear the roommate entering the bathroom. Were they also feeling unwell? Maniacal laughter. What’s the joke? I’d like a good chuckle, Charlie Boy. Before I uncover the punchline, my colon alerted me that it needed an emergency cleansing. 

Bang on the door! I. NEED. THE. RESTROOM! 

Devious giggles. “We have diarrhea!”

Say what now? Gurgle. Spicy hot septic lava in the rectum.

I've never had diarrhea in my life – at least not as an adult life.  How is this possible? How long will this last? We’re a relay team. They poop. I poop. There’s no time for Lysol or air freshener. Coincidentally, we’d just seen Dave Chappelle’s comedy special. Dave did a bit about how back in the day people died from diarrhea. This could have been death. I should have had a will prepared. Thankfully, we’re in the new millennium, and my pooper scooper eventually healed.

A few Yelpers reported that they also got the runs that weekend. Mystery solved, Scooby Doo. We won’t be going back there. 

Shout out to all the restaurant owners obeying health safety laws.


What would you do? Tweet me using #JBFxOnicia


Created on St. Maarten. Based in Chicago. Onicia Muller (@OniciaMuller) writes, says funny things, and enjoys hanging with creative minds. Originally published in The Daily Herald's Weekender, Just Being Funny is a weekly reflection where Onicia laughs at life


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