After work yesterday I had to pick up some things at the grocery store like Splenda and rice (totally unrelated items, yet I wonder if the register runners try to figure out what recipe their customers are making with their purchased items....what can you make with toilet bowl cleaner, dental floss and potatoes?).
I don't mind doing this because the grocery store here has some kind of sweet deal where we can buy new mainstream movies for $9.99 (prices unbeatable, even at Wal-Mart in Juneau and Anchorage) and I love to look as they get new shipments every few weeks. I also like to go because by the time I finish working at the thrift store I either hungry or thirsty or both (usally both) and I pick up something to eat or drink. Yesterday I saw something at the store that I'd never seen before at a store in Alaska; dried mangos with chili seasoning on them. I had to have them, and don't knock them until you've tried them.
When we lived in California we were introduced to all sorts of different foods. Thai food, Japanese food, Korean food, Vietnamese food, Brazilian, Peruvian, Mongolian, Hawaiian (my favorite), and the list goes on. On the way back from a spring mission trip to San Jose (not exactly exotic, but still fun), a friend of ours stopped off at a fruit stand called Casa de Fruta, telling us of all the wonderous treasures to be found there. It was a sight, I wouldn't really call it a fruit stand as this place was easily bigger than our grocery store. I can't even describe all that we saw there, and all that we bought there.
Often times when my wife and I go shopping, and we get snack stuff, we'll agree on most of the items, but there will be something that she gets that I find disgustingly nauseating and likewise. On this trip, she bought dried mangos seasoned with chile. She offered me some and I begrudgingly and complaingly ate some. Sometimes I think people just feel the need to complain. Well I kept on complaining, of how gross these mangos were and how ridiculous it was to spend so much money on something so disgusting. But, in my mouth, my tastebuds were screaming, "Party, oh chile mangos, where have you been all my life and wherever that is how do I get there!?!" I was hooked. Whenever I thought my life wasn't looking, I took a few of those truly scrumptious dried, seasoned fruits and continued the mouth party. By the time we got home and my wife grabbed the bag, there were only a few pieces left. She smiled, shook her head and said "So I guess you like these now huh?" To which I responded, firm and resolute, "they're okay, I was hungry and they were there."
I haven't forgotten those mangos. I've never seen them since. So when I saw them at the grocery store, I had to have them. I took them to the register, proud of my purchase and finding such a treasure in a rural Alaskan store. I even talked to the guy at the register about them, "Not too many people buy these." "Ah they're great." "Yeah I know, but many won't even try them." "That's okay, more for the enlightened ones." I was barely out of the store before the bag was somewhat violently torn open and a luscious mango treat was recreating the party I remembered from two years ago.
I ate more on the way home, about four pieces, the experience becoming more and more enjoyable with each taste. I used to like eating on the way home. When we lived in Juneau, I could stop off at McDonald's after work and grab a two cheeseburger meal and eat the whole thing on the way home before eating dinner with my wife. I thought I was the only person who did this until I heard Kevin James mention the pre-dinner Whopper on King of Queens. Its always driven me nuts here that the drive home takes approximately 3.4 minutes, it doesn't give much time to snack without getting caught.But, no matter how long the drive home was yesterday, there's no way I could escape being caught with my hand in the mango con chile jar. As I turned onto the unlabeled street that I live on, I felt a sudden tingling on my lower lip. That tingle quickly became a salt on an open wound, a terrible burning. That's not all. Along with the burning came what seemed like an eruption on my lip as I literally felt it begin to swell up, eventually doubling in size. Then, like popcorn popping in the microwave, a bunch of tiny blisters popped up on the right hand side of my lip with a pop pop pop.
When I walked inside to say hello to my family, the words came out slurred and Lisa immediately could tell something was different, because she asked "What happened to you?" I answered her question and quickly found the nearest chap stick (Dr. Pepper flavored...yes!!! Soda flavored chap stick, new creations are amazing) and pasted that stuff on like a Kindegartener learning how to paste. I repeated this several times throughout the night, and hoped that when I woke up this morning it would be better. Well....
You know when Will Smith gets sick in Hitch and thinks its not serious until he looks in the mirror and sees his face has turned into a version of Shrek's face from swelling? This wasn't quite so bad, but when I looked in the mirror I couldn't help but recognize that my face looks like Bubba's from Forrest Gump (the dude obsessed with Shrimp). My lower lip is twice the size of my upper one and juts out far enough that I can't completely close my mouth. Even better, when I talk, my words slur and I sound like a sleepy Elmer mixed with an upset Daffy.Now if today was a day to stay home, it wouldn't have been a big deal. But I had to work our thrift store, and endure all the looks and comments I'd receive for four hours. Who'd you get into a fight with? What are you waiting for a kiss? Trying to collect specimens in case you're nose gets runny? Mommy, what happened to that man's face? Lips are not for eating! It got a little annoying, but I took it like a man, and at one point did my Bubba impression for someone (cajun shrimp, shrimp with lox, ground shrimp burgers, shrimp stir fry, shrimp cheerios, shrimp on toast, shrimp on eggs, green eggs and shrimp) who found it funny, or was too polite to say it wasn't.
Then a friend on facebook told me when I shared my lip news that he knew how close our friendship is by being able to laugh at my predicament before sympathizing with me. I guess that means when you know each other well enough, you're okay laughing at each other, maybe because you know it isn't meant to hurt, or maybe because our friendship is close enough that we have the guts and ability to remind each other to laugh at ourselves too. So I went from being grumpy, to making fun......of me because its important to laugh at yourself and not take things so seriously. After all, Bubba me isn't going to last forever. Oddly, I even felt better after being able to laugh at my poor deformed face. Thanks for the reminder my friend, oh and I promise, because we are such good friends, that the next time you endure some kind of allergic reaction mutating your body, I will remember to laugh at you before sympathizing with you.
So now here I am, jovial, still chuckling at how I look (shrimp ala king, shrimp and beans, shrimp tacos...), thankful for the lesson and reminder to keep joy alive and remember to laugh even when the joke's on you. However, I'm still wanting to eat more of those tasty mangos sitting in the kitchen........if I don't write tomorrow, I may be in anaphalactic shock at the hospital in Juneau, completing my transformation from me to Shrek.
BLT says.....laugh at yourself, everybody else is doing it.
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