He appeared at my head smiling and saying “you cold?” Teeth still chattering I nod as best the rope will allow. He smiled and I knew it was the wrong answer, as he picked up a paddle I had not so far noticed, he waved it at my secure face and said “meet the warmer.” He began to paddle my cold rump, the pain enhanced by the cold skin. I began to moan as the heat began to permeate the cold meat of my rump. Whack, whack, whack, the thing striking regularly; not over hard but over about 5 minutes it begins to really hurt, he kept to his task though I sensed he was waiting for something to happen The doorbell rang, the paddle instantly discarded he muttered “oh good”, he had been waiting for that bell. My mind began to race as he left me secure the kitchen door open and walked to the front door. I heard it open, cool air tumbling into the room, from the long haul; outside, a male voice, straining ears though still can`t hear what`s said. My heart thumping loudly now, Mind racing. And I christened the door panel of my new convertible. After that I heaved and puked out the window for over an hour before I could stand the movement of the car. The only thing I remember after that was that I hung my head out the window of the car like a dog all the way home. When we got to my fiancé’s house he literally had to carry me up the steps and put me into bed. I laid there for hours watching the ceiling fan…which while off seemed to me to be self-propelled. Every time I closed my eyes the room spun. The next morning finally arrived and I got up and drank enough water to take some Tylenol…two minutes later I was puking again…the toilet went completely pink with white zinfandel…after 6 hours and all the throwing up I’d already done. I finally got some food down around 4:00 that day…put the old adage that a wine puck I the worst puke of all definitely held true for me…all these years later and I still can’t even stand the smell of white zin! About a week later we were.
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