Wow. Just snickered that a Salon piece hyperlinked the word vomitorium.

And who can resist that link.

So I took it.

Turned out to be an entry from The Straight Dope column, which I loved for years and then kinda forgot--after getting the book version years ago as a gift and reading every entry, I think, chock full of fascinating archana like why (broadcast) TVs have no channel 1. (Though I forgot the answer to that one, actually.)

The question:

Were there really vomitoriums in ancient Rome?

Let's see how much of the answer I can print without getting sued:

Let me ask you this, Christine. The last time you were doubled over the porcelain throne heaving your nachos, did you think: I want to permanently consecrate part of my home to this delicious experience?

Well, neither did the Romans. While there was something called a vomitorium (from the Latin vomitus, past participle of vomere, to vomit), it wasn't a room set aside to vomit in. Rather a vomitorium was a passageway in an amphitheater or theater that opened into a tier of seats from below or behind. The vomitoria of the Colosseum in Rome were so well designed that it's said the immense venue, which seated at least 50,000, could fill in 15 minutes. (There were 80 entrances at ground level, 76 for ordinary spectators and 4 for the imperial family.) The vomitoria deposited mobs of people into their seats and afterward disgorged them with equal abruptness into the streets--whence, presumably, the name.

That's not to say the Romans were unfamiliar with throwing up, or that they never did so on purpose. On the contrary, in ancient times vomiting seems to have been a standard part of the fine-dining experience. In his Moral Epistles the Roman philosopher Seneca writes . . . [You'll have to take my word for it. Or follow the freaking link.]

You get the picture. The Romans weren't shy about vomiting, and they had vomitoria--but they didn't do the former in the latter.

Huh. Another non-urban myth. All this time, I've been taken in.

Those Romans. Who the hell are we going to turn to for decadance now? The French?