:: *shrug* eh, wutever ::
Two roads diverged in a yellow woodAnd sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood...
...Dammit, where'd I put that roadmap?
| [::..About Me..::] |
|---|
| Name: Alden |
| Gender: Male |
| Location: San Francisco, CA |
| Occupation: Legal Assistant/Office Bitch |
| Favorite Quote: "Come back with my sock, ya goat bastard!" |
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:: Thursday, October 02, 2003 ::
:: "OW." ::
Or rather, "HOLY SHIT!!!! IT BURNS! IT BURNS! OH, GOD, MAKE THE HURTING STOP!"
...And that was my reaction to dinner the other night. Now, I like spicy food. Mexican food? No problem. Thai food? Yeah, ok, I can hang sometimes. Mongolian? That's crossing the line.
The other night I was taken to a restaurant that specialized in Mongolian hot pot. Ah, Mongolian hot pot - also known as thermonuclear death-brew whose recipe could only have been conceived in the dark recesses of Hell. For the uninitiated, hot pot involves a cauldron of boiling broth placed in the center of the dining table. Diners then order platters of raw meat and vegetables which they'll then dump into the liquid. Liquid that has been superheated to approximately the temperature of the Sun. Factor in that the broth has HUGE chunks of red chilies and other spices, and you've got the makings of a supernova. But perhaps I'm exaggerating a tad; I never claimed astrophysics as my forte.
Now, I've had hot pot in the States. However, the broth that they use in the land of the free, home of the brave is much, much tamer by comparison. Think of the American version as Mr. Rogers (may he rest in peace) after smoking a joint. The Mongolian version, on the other hand, is a rabid hyena that’s been let loose in a daycare center after being starved for ten days. Yeah. This stuff will kick your ass.
The first bite wasn’t too bad. A little kick, nothing more. So I took another bite. And that’s when the hurting began. My eyes began watering, my nose began running, and my face turned a bright red usually not seen outside of a Target store. It really stung. However, everyone else I was dining with seemed not to notice that they were eating magma. Oh, yeah, and one of them was a little girl. Emasculating? Yes, indeed.
Not wanting to seem like a little sissy, I took my beer and started chugging. Nothing like a little hard drinking to win back your pride.
…Ok, it was half a beer.
…Ok, it was a Sprite.
Hey, shut up.
Another lesson learned, I suppose. And what might that lesson be? Hell if I know – I’m more worried about getting my sense of taste back.
--your friendly neighborhood Alden
:: Alden 1:52 PM [+] ::
...
