November 16, 2009 2 Comments
I’m not what you’d call an adventurous eater. I was never the guy to order a dozen Nuclear Mt. St. Helen’s From the Fiery Depths of Hell wings and pour some Dear God What Have I Done hot sauce on them. I never ventured much past Medium on the sauce scale, and nowadays, even that can be a fast track to an evening on the porcelain.
But I can handle some General Tso’s Chicken. That was the food of choice yesterday afternoon as I settled in for my football Sunday. Had some General Tso’s, some Killians, some pork fried rice, I was good to go.
Now I have a particular method of eating this dish. The chicken goes first. Then the rice gets scooped into the remaining sauce, and I eat that. And that’s where our tale of woe begins….
I was pretty sure it was just a thin piece of pork or chicken and didn’t think twice about it. The first couple of chews, I realized it was a pepper. Not unusual. Except that by the time I was done chewing it, I was crying and asking forgiveness for every possibly transgression I had ever committed.
I don’t know where the hell this thing came from, but it was eating through the inside of my mouth like Alien blood. I immediately tried spitting out whatever was in my mouth, but this stuff had gotten a taste of Richard and liked it. Then I downed about half my beer, which only helped carry the evil down my throat. I finally got a mouthful of beer and just held it there, desperately trying to douse it, and I swear I could feel the beer boiling inside my mouth.
Finally, whatever the hell this was decided it had had enough, and the pain subsided. I’d sloshed beer and chewed food all over the rest of my rice, but continued eating was the last thing on my mind. I was more focused on curling up and sobbing.
And I won’t even go into the gift my digestive system gave me about two hours later thanks to this little interloper.
Thing is, there was nothing else like this in the entire dish. I looked, because I was damn sure going to take revenge on any friends this little bastard may have had. But it was like the shark in Jaws, the rogue giant that decides to hang around for a while then explode, only in my mouth instead of the ocean.
I’m okay now, except for the memories. And I’ll venture down the General Tso’s road again in the future. I’ll just be a little more careful of what’s in there next time.
Like using a damn Geiger counter.