People Share Their Worst Food Experience And It’s Hilarious

Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food… Oh Really?

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1. Italian Adventures

We traveled to Sicily and decided to get some pizza. Found a really nice place at the beach, where we could watch the sunset over the sea. We ordered our pizzas and everything seemed perfect. Then the pizzas came and my bf tasted his. First he thought his pizza had a funny seasoning and gave it a shot, but after a few bites he said his tongue began to tingle. I tried a few bites myself and it was a really weird sensation in my mouth. Like when something is really spicy, but more in the acid kind of way. So he tried to explain to a waitress something was off with the pizza. There was a huge language barrier, so in the end she took the pizza away and looked quite irritated.

 

My bf decided to walk towards the kitchen because we had the feeling they didn’t understand our complaint. From my point of view, a saw different staff members rushing out of the kitchen, including a cheff, and tried to explain something to my bf in quite a panicky way. Turns out their dishwasher was broken and all the plates where covered with highly concentrated dish soap. Their head chef ate some pizza and had to be picked up by an ambulance, fortunately we didn’t get food poisoning and just left the restaurant with empty bellies.

OxidizedLady

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2. Not So Dim

Dim Sum at a local Chinese restaurant that constantly gets lauded as being super authentic. The seafood tanks had obviously dead fish floating in them. Where we sat we could see the server station and we got to watch multiple members of wait staff use their bare hands to scrape food from plates/bowls into the trash, push down the trash and then go back to handling food and plates. Horrendous.

 

Figured I was being too precious and tried to just roll with it. First dumpling I bit into had a hair in it. I managed to grab the hair and swallow the bit of dumpling already in my mouth. Didn’t want to just spit it out in front of the whole dining room. Or seem “high maintenance” in front of my dining companion. The hair is still connected to the uneaten portion of the dumpling and begin trying to pull it out. This hair is weaved into every nook and cranny of this dumpling like some kind of nightmare meat embroidery. I keep pulling and pulling while the dumpling falls apart around the loose strand of hair. This thing is easily thee feet long and I can’t imagine how a person would not notice it being worked into a hand-rolled dumpling. This whole ordeal is somehow not noticed by my boyfriend who remarked when I pushed the plate away, “you’re just going to waste that?”

 

I legitimately felt sick so I went into the bathroom. We arrived as some of the first guests of the day, appx 20 minutes after opening. The trash was overflowing with paper towels and there was toilet tissue covered in human feces scattered around the floor. There was no soap in the soap dispensers and it smelled like how my mouth tastes when I wake up after a night of binge drinking and hot wing eating.

 

Despite all of this I still felt like I had to be polite and not say anything. I ate a few more small plates of food and rode home in near silence with my boyfriend. As we were pulling into the driveway he just said, “that was fucking fowl.” We both went inside, brushed our teeth, and never spoke of it again.

pdxcranberry

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3. The Chicken Is Gone

I cooked myself a curry once whilst I was drunk. Worst mistake of my life so far and the only time I’ve almost died.

I basically had some frozen chicken and sauce. I decided to cook the sauce and just throw in the chicken without letting it properly thaw out.

The chicken wasn’t fully cooked and I basically ate all of it because I was drunk and hungry.

I don’t remember much about the next week but the day after I woke up freezing cold and passed it off as just being hungover.

Days went by and I thought to myself this hangover is lasting a long time I just have been really drunk. Then the shits came. I couldn’t even make it to the toilet on time. I shit myself like 15 times.

I thought that was the end of it. I was wrong.

I remember phoning my brother after sleeping on and off for 3 days (I didn’t realise how dehydrated I was at this point and it was like day 6).

I tell him I need to get to the hospital I’m feeling real fucked up.

I get to the hospital and I pass out in the waiting area. I wake up in a bed covered in shit. I fall back asleep.

 

I wake up again in a hospital room with two people wearing masks and gloves etc. They tell me I have a rare strain of complybactor from chicken. I’m not allowed to leave the room and had to shit in a bowl and have someone replace it after.

 

Later that night they tell me I passed out from dehydration, that it had gotten so bad it had started to infect my red blood cells and that I’d need to stu for a week and take antibiotics.

 

I survived but I haven’t ever made myself food ever since. Whilst drunk.

ChickenShitDemon

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4. A Serious One

A co-worker poisoned me.

I’m allergic to pork, I always let people know this. It’s pretty important.

One day she brought in homemade burritos, I asked what kind of meat was in them. I always ask. She went on to explain how they were cooked, and said “anyway, beef”. I said “just beef” verifying because a lot of Mexican food gets pork thrown in when it’s traditional. She said “yep” just beef.

So I ate it.

About 30 minutes later, I started to feel ill. I tried to stick it out, but another hour, and I had to go home.

Chills and sweating, vomiting, the runs, headache. All through the rest of the day, and overnight.

I had to stay home the next day too.

She texts me and asks if I’m okay. I tell her no. She says she hopes that her food didn’t make me sick. Thinking it was the flu or something this whole time, I tell her “it would only do that if it was pork”. She says “it was 1/2 and 1/2, you didn’t ask :/”

I almost murdered her.

Encrowpy

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5. Bed-Bound

My roommate made a plate of bacon. He walked away and I ate most of it. Not like I didnt wait. But he literally didnt touch it for some time. It was early and we we’re having a lazy day.

I ended up with shigela. Think of it as a weaker E coli bacteria. I couldnt eat at all from all the vomiting/ dryheaving and diarrhea.

5 days I went without a lick of food because my stomach felt so sensitive that the taste of everything made me gag.

After about 7 days without food and the nigh-constant purging I ended up with rhabdo.. Can’t remember the spelling but think muscle atrophy. I only found out about that once my classmate took me too the ER because I looked like death.

Yes, I know, I should have gone to see a doc instead of going to school. I felt bad like moving was tough. I was bedbound with a bucket next to me for a while.

Switch over to me getting many tests done at the hospital and I’m told i had a fever of 104. About a week later I end up on dialysis because my kidneys had stopped functioning due to an excess of proteins from My muscles breaking down. My liver wasn’t too happy either.

But it took me 2 1/2 months to get out of the hospital. I start class back up next month.

Found out had I not gone to the hospital the day i had I likely would have died. All because of a plate of bacon.

Vendeith

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6. A Shellfish Allergy

I have an allergy to shellfish, crustaceans, mollusks….it’s not fun. I remember one job at my farewell party (moving to another office), they served up a few shrimp platters. I walked into the room with the food and then walked right back out. My boss asked why I wasn’t in there enjoying my party – I explained the shellfish allergy and since people were eating the shrimp with their hands then picking up the forks/tongs for other food that I can’t deal with that insane amount of cross-contamination and I had zero desire to end up at the hospital that day.

 

Boss asked me if the gal organizing it knew about my allergy. I replied I mentioned it constantly and repeatedly wrote her emails with my known allergy. Boss pulls her aside and asked why she got shrimp platter knowing full well I was allergic. The gal organizing it said ‘this party isn’t really for her, it’s for us and she’s just the excuse for it, plus she’s too fat and avoiding this food is the best thing for her’. This was coming from a size 2 older woman who prided herself on staying so thin into her 50’s and constant berated me for being overweight, especially after maternity leave. I was happy to be leaving that office.

penguindisco

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7. A Waste Of Time

I’ve written this somewhere before but Trump’s Cap Cana restaurant: Trump Cap Cana

 

Cap Cana is in the Dominican Republic and is supposed to be an ultra exclusive gated resort type area there. Apparently Lil’ Wayne “recovered” from his dental surgery prior to going to Rikers there. All of the resorts have multiple helipads, there’s a private petting zoo, you drive golf carts all around, etc. Anyway, my mother did a favor for someone wealthy (we’re firmly middle class) and they gifted her with a week there. She invites 6 friends and I invite someone and off we go. Since we’re there for a girls’ vacation and didn’t have to pay for our accommodations, we decide fuck it, let’s go big. (We’d been eating amazing ceviche and some of the best chicken fingers and coconut based desserts I’ve ever had until this point.)

 

Trump’s restaurant is a top this mesa that overlooks the whole area and takes like a mile to get up on a winding road. There’s six (empty) helipads and an empty parking lot surrounding this ornate looking, dark wood, tropical-ish building – inside was just bowls of fake fruit and giant portraits of the man himself (no surprise really). There was no one else there and the staff spoke nor seemed to understand English so My 6 years of terrible Spanish came in handy. (Everywhere else everyone seemed to speak a variety of languages or at least understood them.) The place looked like it could comfortably host 100 and was staffed to do so. However, we were the only 8 people there. This meant we took a sip of water, it was refilled. Put a used fork down (gold, obviously), it was immediately replaced with a clean one – regardless if you were actually finished eating. This was highly annoying as conversations were being constantly interrupted with a white gloved hand reaching in front of someone.

 

Then came time to order – we’d been there for 90 minutes at this point and had only been offered water & bread. After explaining through a combination of poor Spanish and terrible pantomiming that I was allergic to mushrooms and another woman also had an allergy, we thought we’d successfully ordered. (The dish I ordered had no mushrooms but reusing a pan they were previously cooked in has set me off in the past and I didn’t want to have to go to hospital on vacation.) 45 minutes later, yup, you guessed it, my dinner came out smothered in mushrooms (it was a seafood pasta dish FYI) and my mother’s friend’s dish comes with a side of nuts (again not even listed on the dish as being an ingredient). She could at least eat hers as the nuts hadn’t touched her actual dish and my mom pulled the ultimate mom move and swapped with me. Two bites in I realized this was the blandest food I had ever had. Like eating raw pasta covered in over cooked tomatoes with over cooked lobster meat and some sort of seeds on it. A table of 8 boisterous women was brought to almost complete silence for a full minute. Then everyone bust out laughing about how horrible the meal was and what a waste of a night it was.

 

We paid as fast as we could and got the hell out of there. We wound up at a beach “shack” (it still had flowy white linens acting as walls and tiny table top candles) eating chicken fingers with sweet chili mango sauce and drinking copious amounts of wine. When the owner asked why we were eating so late (it was about 10:30 pm when we got to the shack after about a 10 minute drive…we got to Trump’s at 5:30pm) we told him where we had started our evening and he just bent over laughing to the point of tears and comped the next three bottles of wine. We ate nearly every meal at that shack for the next four days we were there.

samynoodle

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8. Oh, No!

I went to a Peruvian restaurant that was getting all sorts of great reviews and ordered a rice dish with assorted seafood in it.

 

The rice tasted like someone just mixed it with off brand ketchup, and the seafood, I realized after a few overwhelmingly tomato-ey bites, was undercooked. I was halfway through the meal at this point, thoroughly disgusted, and decided then and there that I wasn’t even going to try to pick through and find something edible in this mess on my plate.

To top it all off, I ended up with a terrible case of food poisoning.

swampmutt

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9. Fun At McDonald’s

Back when I was in Middle School, I was in softball, and after practice one day my dad and I went to McDonalds, and they had those burgers with Frito Lay’s chips on them, and I got one.

 

About halfway through the burger, I noticed some ash in the burger so I opened it up, and there was a fucking cigarette inside it.

 

We ended up heading back to the McDonalds and they found out who was smoking while working, but he already finished his shift. All the manager did was offer us some coupons for free ice cream and a refund (the hamburger was roughly $2), but this was a McDonalds with a constantly broken ice cream machine, so good luck using it at that one.

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10. Undercooked

My first time at one of my best friends house, his mom decided to make is a snack while we did homework. She was a single mom for a lot of his upbringing, so she worked all day and was usually not up for cooking lunch/dinner. She wanted to be nice and offer me something though, so she whipped up some food. She served us undercooked whole wheat pasta. She also didn’t have any sauce or topping for it, so she just crumbled some Triscuits over the top of them. My friend was severely embarrassed. His mom has since remarried and has learned much more about cooking food for others.

StonerPanda0420

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11. “A daiquiri is rum.”

Went to a restaurant a coworker recommended called “Fred’s Place.” Not sure what it was even supposed to be.

 

Problem started with the drink. I ordered a plain daiquiri (not a strawberry thing, just a plain simple drink). I tasted it and it was astringent and just wrong and I asked the waitress, “Is there by any chance Tequila in this??”

 

She glowered at me and said, “A daiquiri is rum.”

“I know it’s supposed to be, but this doesn’t taste right, could I get another drink?”

 

She seems pissed. I order a dirty gin martini, thinking there’s no way to mess that up either. It was so salty I could barely sip it. At least it was made with the right ingredients, just the wrong proportions.

 

By the time the food comes out, I already think I’m a “problem customer.” I ordered mixed seafood with pasta, it was supposed to be crab, shrimp, clams. It smelled exactly like hot garbage. I still tried to take a bite, thinking maybe I was smelling it wrong somehow, and it tasted like old garbage, too. Sour, foul, rotten. Had to spit it up in my napkin.

 

But at that point I’d complained about the drinks so I thought they’d be upset with me if I also complained about the food, so I asked to have it taken out in a to-go container. I threw it in the nearest garbage can when we left (the entire car was smelling bad now).

 

That place closed down. Poor Fred, whoever he is. I realize only now we were like maybe one of two people in the restaurant.

 

I also went to a wedding where everyone got a porterhouse steak. Mine tasted exactly like pure fish oil. I tried to eat it, because you don’t want to complain at a wedding, but finally asked other people to try it and they said, “Don’t eat that.” Still not sure what would make a steak taste like old fish, and why it was only mine.

Cidiot

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12. No Thanks!

My in-laws are Chinese and I’ve had a lot of traditional food with them. I’ve liked most of it, helps that I’m not picky, not there were two dishes that I could not do. Duck feet, which are gelatinous and tasteless. I tried to chew it, but it was basically a cartilage-filled lougie so I just swallowed it. Nearly choked at the dinner table but thank Jesus it went down. Then there was the jellyfish. My father in law dared me to eat it and I was like, “Pshh no big deal.” It was crunchy, slimy, and chewy at the same time and it wouldn’t break down no matter how much I chewed. That’s the only thing I’ve actually had to spit out into my napkin.

 

Then there was the durian, which wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but it’s weirdly spicy and does smell like smelly socks and onions. No thanks.

Bisexualdw

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13. Food Is Our Common Ground, A Universal Experience.

So, story time.

I hate sauerkraut

I get that it’s popular, and I respect its place in food culture, but I hate it.

Now, I was raised to hate it. You see, my Dad was born in 1928 on a cotton farm in West Texas, the son of a sharecropper. The Great Depression had already hit West Texas, and my Dad grew up with nothing.

During the lean winter months, my grandfather would work for the city as a garbage man, and he’d bring home the cabbage that restaurants had thrown out.

They would pick off the outer leaves, wash it thoroughly, and then have thin, soured cabbage soup. It was revolting, I’m sure.

So my Dad could NOT stand the smell of souring cabbage, so he raised me to hate sauerkraut. No problem, I hate it.

So jump forward a dozen years, and like my father before me, I’ve joined the Navy. During the middle of bootcamp, we had to work for a week in the galley, helping out.

I was mostly on milk duty, refilling those and cleaning up around them, when one day, this mess specialist (female cook, mid-20s) comes up and points at me, and says, “You should be tall enough, follow me.”

I’m thinking that she wants me to get something off of a high shelf for her. But nooooooo.

She leads me back to the kitchen to this vat of greenish/grey mush, congealed into a thick coating on top. It was sauerkraut – which we didn’t have that day. No, it’d been sitting there since yesterday. Because someone had failed to put the screen back on the drain pipe at the bottom, so the liquid could be drained from the vat. Instead, that drain pipe was clogged with sauerkraut.

I had to climb into the vat, head first, submerge my entire head, down to my shoulders, and hold my breath, while I tried to scrape out the sauerkraut from the drain, keep it from filling back in with my fingers, and then eventually fit the drain screen back over the pipe.

It took about 45 minutes, constantly coming up for air, and doing everything in my power to not vomit. But I finally got the drain screen on and then the liquid was able to be drained out and the remaining sauerkraut dumped and cleaned.

So yeah, I hate sauerkraut. I hate the smell of it, I hate the thought of it, and one whiff makes me feel like I’m still picking it out of my nose and ears.

ronearc

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14.  A Chinese Tale

Went to a local Chinese restaurant, hole-in-the-wall type place that I had never been before. Huge restaurant on the inside, but it was completely dead when we went at lunch rush hour.

Ordered something simple, maybe chicken fried rice or something? It’s been over a decade so can’t really remember.

Anyway, our food comes out and I legit have a WHOLE CHICKEN, almost completely raw, just sitting on the top of my rice. Like a whole, plucked chicken without a head pretty much. It LOOKED like it was MAYBE boiled?? But it even still had some feathers and small feather pieces left on it.

I tried to just tough it out, I didn’t want to insult the people there, and I didn’t want to waste food, so I tried cutting into the chicken to mix into my rice to maybe try and eat some of it.

I seriously could NOT cut into the chicken. It was so tough and just… not edible. Obviously not cooked on the inside, and the feather stuff really grossed me out. I did manage a few bites, and took the rest to-go (with no intention on eating it later, I just didn’t want to insult the people working there).

I definitely remember having major food poisoning / diarrhea later that day. I’m betting it was from my whole, uncooked, feathery chicken.

I still don’t know if that is an authentic way of serving that dish, and I’m just not used to it because I’m used to “Americanized” Chinese food, or if they really just fucked it up or something.

Either way, worst food experience ever, especially the aftermath that came later while praying to the porcelain gods that night.

EDIT: ok guys, yes I know it’s my fault for not speaking up… but again, this was MANY years ago, I was about 16 and young, stupid, and nervous. I’m in my 30s now and definitely would speak up now and actually say something. I was just a scared teenager then, and it was over 15 years ago!

Pennywises_Toy

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15. Bing!

I made a microwaved pizza for myself when they first came out in the late 1980s. I loaded it up with extra cheese.

 

I hear the microwave go BING. I pull it out and it flips over onto my hands. I had boiling hot cheese stuck to my fingers. I screamed like a banshee. My mom looked at me like I was some kind of weirdo. And my best friends was there and started laughing at me with blisters forming all over my hands.

 

A few weeks later I was over at his parent’s place with him. He throws in a microwaveable pizza. I hear BING then him screaming like a banshee. He did the same damn thing.

Ohsoeasy

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16. Cold Noodles And Peanut Butter

Peanut. Noodles.

The term is forever associated in our house with our worst meal ever. Occasionally I would get takeout from the angry sushi man a few blocks away – he always seemed pissed off at anyone who ordered food. I don’t know why, I tipped fine, maybe he just never wanted to work. But one night my wife didn’t feel like sushi, so she ordered peanut noodles. What she received, instead of pad thai, instead of any variation of noodles with peanut sauce, was a takeout container of cold buckwheat noodles and a dollop of peanut butter. Not even mixed together. She made the best of it and used them to make herself something tasty, but cold noodles and peanut butter isn’t a meal! It’s ingredients!

gremmllin

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17. A Christmas Party

I went to this Christmas party at this fancy southern restaurant in Georgia for a work thing I had been working there for two weeks (and later got fired on my 90th day because the owner was an asshole and had me doing three folks’ work with no real training and I couldn’t keep up). Anywho, ate lunch, went about my business. Had taco bell with my folks for dinner and exorcist puked the whole weekend. I chalked it up to bad taco bell, but then I saw a news story about a bunch of judges and county officials also having their Christmas lunch at said venue and getting sick. The health department was investigating.

 

The following friday, I went to see my cousin in the hospital who had just had a knee replacement at 19 because lupus ate her knee cartilage. And because my immune system was shot from getting over food poison, I ended up Catching strep… in my entire sinus cavity and throat. I was sick from Christmas eve until new years.

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18. First We Eat, Then We Do Everything Else.

I’ve told this story to a lot of my friends because it always comes up that they have never pooped their pants before. I call them liars, it escalates…

 

So once upon a time I’m helping my boyfriend move out of his wretched house with one of my friends. This place had like no doors, the windows had half duct taped squares of cloth pushed up against them, rodents, bugs, if you were going to use the bathroom make sure to say hi to the local drug dealer. It’s incredibly hot outside even for the south, and we’re all suffering. Halfway through the day we go to have a quick bite to eat and sit in the AC. We go to a local chain that I’ve eaten at a thousand times before with no problem. I get chicken fingers because I didn’t have much money, and honestly I wasn’t that hungry to begin with because it was so hot. They were slightly cold on the inside, but they’re chicken fingers – probably reheated.

 

My judgement was not good that day.

 

A few hours later my stomach makes the sound of Satan while I’m taking a break on the couch. Weird, I think. Then it makes it again; my friend is alarmed and asks if that was me or the cat. In my head I’m coming to the realization that I’m about to have a monstrous episode of butt trench, and there’s no way I can do it with no doors, no windows… probably making full eye contact with someone else, be it neighbor or friend. I tell my friend and boyfriend we have to get the fuck out of there. I give no explanation; it was my car, we were leaving, we were going to my boyfriends new house and I was going to ruin that bathroom.

 

We get there, and his roommate is in the bathroom brushing her hair. No, she won’t leave. No, it’s going to take more than 30 minutes. My insides are writhing around and I know I don’t have the time benefit of arguing. I grab my friend and we leave. I book it all the way to her house, and when we get there she makes eye contact with me. I know the answer is no to going into her house and doing what I’m about to do.

 

My parents will hear! God is going to hear, I think, and just leave.

 

Luckily, she lives half a mile from my house. Unluckily, I’m not going to make it. I lived in a very, very rural part of my state, and this was during the time the movie Signs came out. That movie scared me to death. I grew up in cornfields, I was scared of aliens.. it was a perfect storm as I pulled off to the side of the road near my neighbors house and ran into their cornfield in the hopes of some privacy and unleashed hell. I’m crying in shame and horror because I am sure in my newly deranged state that an alien is going to kill me or that my neighbor is going to come out and shoot me or see me (he had those automatic lights that turn on, so of course that’s already popped on like a beacon of shame). What came out of me could only be described as punishment lava. It was terrible. After about ten minutes I calmed down and wiped with a corn husk and left. God knows what my neighbor thought when he came outside the next day (the running joke between everyone was ‘did a fucking bear come through here?).

 

I felt dizzy and shaken. I sat in the car for a few moments, ashamed, and then started the .2 mile drive back to my house. On a dirt road. A very bumpy dirt road that was used as practice for snow plowing. I made it within 100 feet of my house, and then I learned that you cannot stop some things in life. They’re going to just happen, and that night the ‘just happen’ was me shitting my pants. It wasn’t long or drawn out, it was just ‘suddenly poop’ in my pants. I parked my car and sat there, crying again, because my early to bed parents were both awake and sitting there, staring at my car, at me crying in my /light blue pants/.

 

My mom came outside, I peeled myself away from the car and didn’t look back. I waddled inside to her cry of ‘what’s wrong?’ that didn’t happen twice because she could see what had happened to me. I waddled past my dad, who looked up briefly, and said without a hint of care ‘Well, it happens to the best of us.’ and went back to reading his paper. I think spent 10 hours on the toilet having the worst salmonella poisoning of my life.

 

I don’t like cold food anymore. Not ice cream. Not salads. I also only buy cars with leather seats, because there are some things you can’t clean out of a car.

 

TLDR: Shit happens whether you want it to or not.

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19. When It’s Bad, It’s Bad!

Ate at In-n-Out for the first time (last time) around lunch before an evening flight back home and I’m pretty sure I got food poisoning.

 

While waiting for my flight I started to feel a little strange. Ended up with the shits prior to the flight, then my head started getting light. When it came time to board, I ended up blacking out for a second or two while making my way to my seat. I came to with my arms locked holding myself up by gripping the seats on either side of the aisle and people asking if I was ok. “Sure, just a little nervous.”

 

I proceeded to alternate between destroying the bathroom and puking into multiple bags for the remainder of the flight while everyone looked on in horror. I must have filled 4-5 bags. I insisted it was just air-sickness because I didn’t want the plane to land somewhere random and make everything worse for everyone. Took a couple days to recover and pretty much wrecked my time at home. I was 20 at the time and didn’t realize how serious everything could have been. Knowing what I know now I should have gone to the hospital.

 

I still feel terribly bad for the lady that sat next to me.

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20. Sometimes You Need A Good Excuse

One of my ex boyfriend’s grandmother had the whole family over for dinner one night. She cooked spaghetti and my ex’s mom warned me that it would be terrible. Boy, was she right. His grandmother boiled water, put in the noddles, DID NOT DRAIN THE WATER, and then dumped some salt, pepper, and KETCHUP into the pot and served it. I had to excuse myself to the bathroom so I could dry heave over the toilet.

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21. Lessons To Be Learned

I lived small city that had some of the worst food. All the restaurants sucked. My parents were in town, and my MIL and SIL wanted to take us out to eat at a Chinese place. I’m always very leery of Chinese food restaurants. I loved them as a kid but as I got older it seemed good Chinese cuisine was hard to find. I had been to this particular place once before and it had a dingy diner vibe to it, with a middle aged smoker voiced hostess. I didn’t want to go. MIL and SIL told me it had changed owners now and was really good. So I acquiesce and we go.

 

I ordered a fried rice dish with basil, but when I get it I start to notice it’s kind of minty. MIL and SIL are like, “Oh, the basil and mint are probably right next to each other and got mixed up!” I don’t see any fresh mint leaves and it sure tastes a bit…mouthwashy, but I do notice a stringy substance that I’m confused about. At first I think it’s egg, but as I get to the center of my dish I find the nucleus. Gum. There was someone’s nasty mint gum that I’ve been eating. The owner apologized, and my meal was comped. They offered to make me a new meal but I declined. My mom looked horrified because she hates eating out for reasons like that. MIL and SIL assume it got stuck on the plate and went through the wash and my meal went on top but, man, I don’t know, it got a bit melty and mixed into my rice. I took that as a lesson to be assertive about where I don’t want to eat.

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