The people-watching at Summerfest was fascinating, sometimes it was also center stage. We were off in a shady secluded corner so the baby could nurse (dappled sunlight, wholesome families) when a woman stumbled over and threw up--big, classic liquid vomit arch. How she remained standing on those hight heel sandals, I don't know. Well, actually, the standing didn't last long. She then passed out in her friends lap. It was 2:30 in the afternoon.
The faithful friend dutifully rubbed the "sick" lady's (remember the presence of children) back, supported her floppy head, and was rather stoic in the face of stares and whispered giggles. With a straight back, she took her free arm, reached over the tanned backside of buddy into a tiny purse, pulled out a lip gloss and applied. 'Atta girl!