DonRocks Posted November 16, 2012 Share Posted November 16, 2012 Here's a rather indelicate question, but it needs to be asked....I absolutely love the heat when it's going down the esophagus, but the next day it can be a pain in the butt, if you catch my not-so-subtle drift. Anyone have a remedy for that turn of events...? "It" I have several personal rules for not putting people off when it comes to running a food-related website. I love childish, potty humor (call it "dockworker's humor," if you will). Love it! My sense of humor never matured with the rest of my intellect, so I can, for example, remember being doubled over in the movie theatre at Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. I love dirty jokes, and tell them often, but when people are reading a food-related website, they do not want to be disgusted (I mean that literally: dis + "gust"ed, having to do with "gustatory.") And one way to do that is not to mention any type of bodily fluids because that is the quickest way to put people off. So while I can eagerly talk about nostril sex, doo-dad jiggles, or tea bagging a yak, I rarely if ever mention shit, piss, cum, blood, pus, spit, bile, breast milk, gastric juices, abdominal fluids, vaginal secretions, sebum, sweat, or vomit; "tears" are about as far as I go. And yet, there's this one time - a time that was the inspiration for this particular post - when "It" occurred. You don't know what "It" is until you've actually experienced its wrath. I've been fortunate to be blessed with a very robust constitution, but one evening, I had an entire large bowl of kimchi jigae, and I even got an extra bowl of rice, so I could spoon up some rice, dip the spoon in the broth, and enjoy that as a secondary soup. I ate every drop of the kimchi jigae, and it was a huge portion - I was stuffed! Ignoring the fearsome amount of red chili paste, one thing about kimchi jigae is that it's ridden with sodium - deceptively so. Have you ever had surgery and had to take a "bowel prep kit" the night before? That vile, wretched liquid you drink is packed with, among other things, sodium sulfate and sodium phosphate, sodium having the biological property that it sucks the water out of your body's cells, and deposits it into your lower GI system. The next morning, I drove downtown for work, and stopped at the Starbucks on Spout Run Parkway for a grande drip coffee which I ordered to go, and drank in the crawling, rush-hour traffic. By the time I was moving at a snail's pace down the GW Parkway, "It" commenced, and began to achieve maximum potential within just a few minutes. Inching up the ramp to get onto the Roosevelt bridge I was in a suit, perspiring, shifting around in my seat with increasing desperation, trying to make things subside just a bit, but "It" was steadily getting worse, and worse. And by the time I reached the end of the on-ramp, I was nearing the end. I was moving across the Roosevelt Bridge at no more than 5 mph, summoning every ounce of strength and courage I had to fight the good fight, but I was against a superior opponent, and it was becoming more and more obvious that I was out of options. Creeping along the Roosevelt Bridge, realizing I was a good half-hour away from work, or for that matter, from anywhere, I was squirming relentlessly, literally praying aloud: "OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod Oh My God. Oh God. OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod." No human could have endured this. Here I was, a grown man, seconds away from the ultimate humiliation and there wasn't *anything* I could do about it. I began accepting my fate, and wondering if hell had any circles lower than where I was at that very moment. In a final moment of desperation, I pulled a U-TURN on the Roosevelt Bridge right in the middle of rush hour, and floored it. Any policeman chasing me would be in for the pursuit of his life because my car was going to go at absolute maximum speed, and wasn't going to stop for anything. On the bridge itself I was just getting started, but when I flew down the exit ramp for the GW Parkway, I was probably doing closer to 80, the whole time bent over sideways, and going: "OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod." I don't remember if there was traffic on the GW Parkway, but if there was, I weaved around it like I was driving in a video game. I thank God this wasn't a pedestrian area. By the time I hit the exit ramp for Spout Run Parkway I was probably going close to 100, and there wasn't a moment of let-up. God might have heard my cries of desperation, because as I tore up Spout Run Parkway, probably well over 90 mph, something subsided just a little bit, perhaps it was the negative G's of my high speed combined with the slope of the road. Whatever it was, it turned disaster (which, despite me having marshaled all my resources for at least 15 minutes, was literally seconds away from occurring) into something slightly, just slightly, more manageable, and a five-percent let-up in intensity was all I needed. I somehow made it into the parking lot, got out of the car, and strode *quickly* into Starbucks, trying to pretend like there was nothing wrong. I made a bee-line for the back, got to the bathroom, and the god damned door was locked. I went into the ladies' room. There was no other option. All's well that end's well, and my personal triumph was nothing short of a medical miracle. This "event" ranked right up there with the most miserable 15-minute time slices of my entire life. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, and if "It" ever happens to you, you have my sincere condolences and sympathies. No matter how bad you say the ordeal was, I will believe you because I've been there. This goes way, way beyond the limits of possible tolerance, and only a superhuman effort can save you. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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