I think I posted this a long time ago… so here it is again.
I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented ‘You’re definitely going to shit yourself’ chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day both of your ass-cheeks WILL fall off.
Here’s the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No ‘Watson’s Movement 2?.
Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.
Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.
Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn’t until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh, don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m referring to that ‘Uh oh, gotta go’ pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.
The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly woman turned into it.
I don’t know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here’s what I mean, and I’m sure some of you at least will be able to relate.
I could’ve warned that poor woman but didn’t. I simply watched as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. Mistake.
Here’s the thing. When you laugh, it’s hard to keep things ‘clamped down’, if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.
Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I’d make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.
Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable ‘Oh my God’, floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging.
One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of ‘Shock and Awe’. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, ‘Sonofabitch!’, then quickly left.
Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, ‘Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.’
That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, ‘IT’S YOU!’, then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.
Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Albertson’s. I can’t say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. Those bastards claim they’re going to have to repaint the store…
Thanks DJ
Reminds me I haven’t made chili for awhile. I’ll have to correct this oversight.
This is an old one but it still makes me laugh!!!
Now that was funny. And I KNOW the feeling…been there done that…even without any help from chili.
LOLOL
It could have bean worse.
The only stuff that Wal Mart sells is all sh*tty, isn’t it? Remember when Sam Walton was alive and he was proud to say everything he sold was “made in America”?
Not so much any more, is it?
Mmmmm. Chili sounds kinda good right now
Paul – After his death in ’92, the Clinton’s pushed NAFTA, which Hillary calls one of Pres Clinton’s biggest successes: http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/Vote2008/story?id=4336481 Maybe that would explain something about the sh1tty imports appearing in the stores in the 90s?
And didn’t Hillary have something to do with the direction Walmart took after Sam’s death? http://www.commondreams.org/views06/0207-34.htm http://agrariancrisis.wordpress.com/2009/07/19/hillary-clinton-and-walmart/
If you are really into anal abuse, try some flaming salsa and chips with several fresh ears of corn on the cob. Guaranteed to give you a big head start on a diet.
DJ, yeah, that’s true, nothing to argue about here. Just saying it’s too bad that so much of the stuff Wal Mart shoppers buy is such crap. Personally, I have not been inside Wal mart this century, and don’t plan on visiting there until the next century rolls around.
But maybe explain to me how NAFTA has anything to do with China? Isn’t more the fault of Nike, et. al., for shipping manufacturing to China?
O.K. Here we go. If the gubmint keeps on raising your corporate taxes, then why would you want to keep your operations running in the U.S.? If the taxes were removed, then production would return. It always comes down to profits and losses. Paul, since you don’t shop in Wal Mart, you would be surprised to find out that except for some clothes, they carry the same brands as the more expensive stores.
P in B — Sure, them too. They’ve been taxed, regulated, unionized, and greened right out of town. Hard to sell a $200 US-made shoe when just down the shelf in every store is a foreign knock-off for half the price or less. And it continues, doesn’t it? As Obama closes GM and Chrysler dealerships all over the country, who do you think will move into those empty buildings? (Our ex-GM dealer here is already selling Daihatsus and Kias.) What cars will Americans buy more of as US ones disappear? Maybe cars from China, Korea, Japan, and other Asian mfgrs? And didn’t Obama just push a deal to sell GM’s Hummer Division to a Chinese resin mfgrer? Where does it end? And how?
Paul, it seems to me that there is plenty of blame to go around, from the White House’s past two + current occupants, to the mfgrs to the unions to the greenies to you or me or our next door neighbor. I was so pissed at my Dad when he bought his first Japanese car back around 1980 (I think). The guy was a vet of WWII in the Pacific fercryinoutloud! The last Japanese vehicle he had seen close-up was a kamikaze exploding on the deck of his battleship. But it was an economic thing for him, and once he drove that car, he would never buy an American car again…because by then it was a quality thing for him. And now Hondas are made right here by my Ohio neighbors in Marysville. I know people who absolutely won’t shop at Walmart, but go to the local Food Lion (foreign owned), or drive their Kias to the (foreign-owned) mall to buy an imported tv or camera or table saw, and spend their vacation money overseas every year or take cruises on foreign flagged ships. Check the label of your cell phone or your computer and let me know where it was made. This has been going on for decades, actually back to post WWII, and it will really accelerate now as O starts to hit the big corporations even harder. It’s not all Walmart’s fault.
Not sure what, if anything, this has to do with the habanera pepper chili-sh1ts, tho.
I must admit, if you gotta go, the bathroom at Walmart works just as good as the one at Lowes, Home Depot, or the library. Right by the entrance.
(Remember when,if you had to use a bathroom at a gas station, you had to go in and ask for the key…and it was hooked to a 1 ft long 2×4 or a tire iron or a wheel rim?)
I grew habaneras in my greenhouse this year and had no idea how hot they were. Free to a good home, you pay the shipping. J/K.
On another note, don’t get me near pickled eggs or I could peel the paint off the walls. Ugh!
Did you mean: habanero