Famous Last Words
February 15, 2010 2 Comments
“It’s a little spicy, but it’s not too bad.”
Cue me seven hours later sitting here pouring water and Maalox down my throat. I should have realized that when they put the Italian word for Satan in the name of the dish, they weren’t kidding around. I even sopped up the left over sauce with some bread, which in hindsight seems akin to dousing a fire with gasoline. Delivered via atomic bomb. That is also on fire.
The really awful thing about how my heartburn works is that I get these hideous, repetitive dreams. I’ll hear an inane song lyric over and over again, or repeat the same action ad infinitum, to the point where I have to wake up and bored everyone with a blog post about it. Fortunately I have today off for President’s Day, so once this passes I can crash and not have to worry about waking up.
I didn’t use to be this bad, but I guess the inevitable aging of my digestive tract has led to a weakening of my tolerance for anything spicier than water. Wings have gone from hot to medium to mild to “Don’t even cook them in the same room as the sauce.” I can still tolerate my beloved Pepper Jack cheese, most likely due to the soothing dairy coating, but I assume it’s just a matter of time until I’m on bread and water.
Oh well, at least it’s not that damn pepper. Then again, that was over a lot quicker.