In other news, corneas hate capsaicin…

Posted: September 12, 2011 in Self-Deprecation
Tags: , , , ,

So, if you were following my most recent vein of revelry, you know that Jill is on the mend– to the point where I can even shoot beer pong right handed again.  I decided that I may also be able to partake in a less intoxicated enjoyment of mine (ok, stop laughing) — getting my kitchen zen on.  Tonight, the girlfriend and I figured that we’d collaborate on whipping up a “mixed grill” along the lines of what you’d get at Deluca’s in Pittsburgh– minus the sausage because of my Kamikaze Diet.

On the upside, the concoction that resulted was ridiculously awesome.  I’m actually sorry I didn’t take pictures, even if the presentation wasn’t up to Iron Chef standards.  I can slice’n’dice ambidextrously now, so prepping the peppers and portabellas was easier than luring Charlie Sheen with coke and hookers.  Yeah, that’s pure hyperbolized bullshit, but it still wasn’t difficult– and I didn’t have to get my girlfriend to do it for me.  I even discovered that both Rosie and Jill can flip eggs with decent success.

It’s no revelation that I love spicy food, which is the primary reason that I keep a box of disposable gloves in my kitchen.  The poblano peppers I chopped tonight don’t even register on my palette, so I didn’t have the forethought to think that tonight could end badly.  After downing dinner, I started to feel a tingle at the corner of my right eye.  It didn’t occur to my genius ass that maybe there was something wrong.  I did what most normal people do when their eye feels like it’s suffering from mild eyestrain.  I rubbed it.

Not my eye, but you get the point.

… and then it felt like Satan himself decided to pee in my eye socket.

Burning ensued, and my first thought was dancing somewhere between “Smooth move, assjack” and “Oh shit, get these contacts out now!”  Realizing my epic fail, I scrubbed the crap outta my hands, with one eye shut, suppressing the urge to “arrrrrrr” in between obscenities.  I popped out the contact lens, rinsed it, and then opened my eyes.

At that moment, my cornea announced to me that not only was I a dumb son of a bitch– but someone had authorized white phosphorus strike on it.  Apparently poblanos pack enough capsaicin to bring as much white-hot ocular pain as its more potent brethren.  I’m not sure what pissed me off more, the fact that I gave my own freaking cornea chemical burns– or that this isn’t the first time I’ve done this and should have known better.  Luckily for me, it didn’t last like the time I rubbed my eye after dicing Thai chilis– but that’s another attack of the dumbass entirely.  Now you see why I keep gloves in my kitchen, and surprisingly it doesn’t involve anything kinky.

Now that the fire has subsided, I can laugh at my own stupidity.  I somehow doubt that I’ll still be snickering when tomorrow morning rolls around and I have to put the contacts back in.


    • I’m fine, thanks for the concern. However, I am definitely down a pair of contacts. I thought a thorough cleaning after a night in saline would take care of them– and it turns out that both lenses were napalmed. Let’s just say I woke up faster (albeit less pleasantly) than with a shot of espresso.

      Now that I’m done crying from my idiotic attempt at frugality, I’m laughing at me too. I totally should have known better.

  1. […] peppers, and make sure you’re wearing gloves.  I know, this is a big “no shit” moment, but I’ve burned my corneas three times (all three followed immediately by “dammit, should have known better.”)  […]

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