No jalapenos please

I'm not sure I'm ever going to touch another jalapeno in my natural born life. >_<

The plans seemed innocent enough. Get nice and dressed up and go down to Drew and Jeff's place, do a little cooking and eating, and then go try out Chocolate Secrets, the new chocolate and wine bar that had jazz playing this Saturday. We chatted and sipped on wine while chicken was cooking and I grated cheese, chopped peppers, onions and jalapenos for some homemade fajitas. The rest of the crowd came while cooking and eating and a few of us relaxed and chatted in the living room. My contact was bothering me a little as I chatted with Dennis so I instinctively nudged my tear duct to get my eye to water a little. I felt a little tingle in my eye and realized that some jalapeno juice must have lingered on my hands after I had washed them. It was a tiny irritation, but I decided to walk to the kitchen and splash some water on it.

And then the fireworks started.

In the forty foot walk to the kitchen, the tiny tingle changed to an all out inferno, as I frantically (and blindly) cranked open the ice water to full and attempted to extinguish the fire on my eye. Almost immediately the feeling spread across my face so fast that it felt like someone had a flamethrower inches from my right eye. Next thing I know I'm desperately pawing at my face with my fingertips in an attempt to rip the plastic and freaking coat of napalm that made its home on the surface of my eyeball. The most fun part was that after ripping the devil contact out, the feeling of molten lava all over my face didn't go away. So what was I doing other than soaking my eyeball (yes, it's possible) in a glass of water to try and subside the insane amounts of pain. After about 10 minutes of this insanity and me face down in a glass of tap water, I decide to try and put the (now newly washed) contact back in, only to find that no amount of cleaning solution would take the evil coats of fiery death from it, so putting it back in just started the whole process of feeling like I was being punched in the face by the Human Torch.

I finally decided to forego the damn contact and throw the piece of solid hell I had created away, rendering me half-blind and disoriented for the rest of the night. Turned out to be a fun night full of chocolate, wine, drinks and goofy friends. But here's the kicker - when I finally made it back to my house around 3 am, I got ready to crash and tried to take out the single contact I had in, only to find that somehow, the damn juice from the jalapeno of a thousand suns still managed to persist on my hand!!! And thus started the whole mess all over again...

Die jalapenos, die.

Backdated post - completed 12/11/07 10:39:00 PM

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