Re: [CH] Humility - a true story

casey marion (caseymarion@mindspring.com)
Thu, 03 Sep 1998 16:51:52 -0400 

I'm sure you're not the first, and you surely won't be the last.  My
first hab experience was similar to your chicken wing episode.
I bought a bottle of pickled habs from a local tobacco store [1st
mistake].  The heat wasn't too excrutiating, so I ate 4 in a row [2nd
mistake].  I was fine for approximately 2.5 hours, until, my stomach
bloated out and turned rock-hard.  The pain radiated throughout my
abdomen and into my back.  I was at a loss.  I finally drove at 85 mph
to the grocery store, grabbed a bottle of Tums, and started eating them
in line.  I don't think the Tums helped at all. 
I was out of commission for the rest of the day and part of the next. 
What an experience.  Needless to say, I haven't bought anymore pickled
habs from the tobacco mart.  Nope, these days I'll only eat the one's I
grow, and then I'm still a bit cautious.  

Ashkenaz, Scott wrote:
> 
> <Warning> this is not a pretty story. If you are squeamish, you may want to
> skip it. But, if you are either sadistic, or can empathize with masochism,
> read on. </Warning>
> 
> There is a place in Santa Clara (CA) called Cluck University - I think that
> it is a chain. They specialize in spicy wings, and have several different
> heat levels. The hottest is "Global Thermonuclear." It's not bad - the heat
> made me glow a little, and the taste is a blend of tomato, garlic, spices,
> and lots'o'chile.
> 
> They also do something called the "911 Challenge." As in many cases of these
> things, one must sign a waiver - a long, detailed one which also proclaims,
> "I am an idiot." If you can eat the dozen wings in 10 minutes (no napkins,
> no drinks, no nothing else, and you're not supposed to drink anything
> beforehand), you win a T-shirt proclaiming your survival. Oh, joy.
> 
> Of course, this had my name on it, so last Friday, we went there to do
> battle. Or, I should say I did, with some folks along for moral support. Or
> was that egging on? Whatever. We all knew I could do it. But, true to the
> rule, not only had I not had anything to drink, I also had not eaten
> anything, so I was doing this on an empty stomach. (Insert ominous
> foreshadowing-type music here.)
> 
> I ordered. I signed. I paid. I calmly waited (OK, with a little Foosball
> thrown in.) One of the servers who had been there for about six weeks had
> never seen anyone eat more than five, but he could just tell that I was the
> one. He was rooting for me as he brought out the order. There were twelve
> well-caked legs and wings wallowing in a glob of very dark red goo. No
> napkins - I'd have to lick my fingers.
> 
> They said to eat the first ones fast, since it gets harder later, and, of
> course, I only had ten minutes. No problem. The first one was thermally hot,
> so I had to eat it slowly. The sauce did not taste like Dave's singed cat
> (to my surprise), and was actually somewhat tasty. The fruitiness of fresh
> habaneros, some garlic, and, yes, the bite of bottled hot sauces. Something
> like Mad Dog Armageddon. I calmly finished off the first one, sucking the
> sauce off the ends. I ate the second one a little faster. It seemed that
> everyone in the place was now watching. (All six of them.) I licked my
> fingers. It was getting hot, but I was not sweating.
> 
> As I picked up the third wing, I felt a twinge in my stomach. You see, from
> time to time, I have a reaction to habaneros or extract-based sauces. I
> never know when it will hit. I can go months eating most anything, and then
> one time, it just reacts. The reaction was starting:  a dull pain in my gut.
> I ate half of the third wing, and decided that my stomach was not going to
> let me do it, so I just put the half wing down. "I'm not going to make it."
> And stopped.
> 
> It was about that time that I did start to sweat a little. The server was
> impressed that I had gone so far without a reaction, but he was clearly
> disappointed. As, of course, was I. So, I got some water, and Chris offered
> to go to the Safeway next door and get some yogurt. "What flavor?"
> 
> The yogurt helped a little (Thanks, Chris.) Chris tried one wing. Well, he
> ate one bite and loudly proclaimed, "Oh, my {expletive} {expletive} god!
> "That is {expletive} {expletive} hot!" You know those little plastic
> containers that they serve the blue cheese dressing in? Chris demonstrated
> that a tongue fits into it. Beer, of course, does not help - but we had a
> pitcher.
> 
> So, we sat there for a while longer, ate some fries, drank some water, some
> beer, and talked about the next time. They wrapped up the left-over wings
> for me to take, and off we went.
> 
> Ah, but it does not end here...
> 
> I drove home, and was not feeling too well. I had some milk and a banana to
> try to get some mild stuff into my stomach. I sprawled out, but found that
> lying down really did not help, and neither did sitting. I was pacing, and
> getting more and more uncomfortable. Then, the sharp, wrenching, explosive
> stab hit. And did not go away. I went into the bathroom, hoping to purge,
> but the little I could do did not help.  I lay on the floor, and started to
> have cold sweats. My hair was drenched. I was doubled over in pain which did
> not stop. I felt my extremities go cold and numb as my body tried to
> conserve blood and send it all to my stomach. (Was that shock setting in?)
> The cats sat nearby and watched. (It was their bathroom, after all.)
> 
> I though about calling an ambulance, but I could not make it to the phone.
> 911 challenge, indeed. I really thought that I would die. I wondered what
> was happening physiologically. I cried out in agony. I laughed. Really. I
> was laughing, thinking that this would be poetic justice. I was in agony,
> and I had brought it on myself.
> 
> Eventually, the pain subsided somewhat, and then almost completely
> disappeared. I had another banana, some milk, and some other stuff. I laid
> down to watch Iron Chefs. About that time, Roswitha (my wife) came in from
> work, and said, "So, how were the wings?"
> 
> "There are some leftovers - have one."
> 
> I am an idiot.
> 
> scott@and no ring of fire the next day!