It Hurts To Poop.
AND I knew it would, but not so much.
I met Tomsass and Kilgor after work yestarday for some golf. We played
a few holes, but it got dark out so we left. Headed for Buffalo Wild
Wings for the hottest wings ever. And crappy service. We got there,
and were drinking a few, and eventually we got to order. We ordered 12
blazin wings (the hottest ever) 12 spicy garlic (most tasty) and 12
thai wings. We received 8 of each. After we finished those, we were
going to order more, but the waitress brought us our check. Tom
shrugged, and we paid the bill and waited. We waited beerless for 10
minutes at our table, while our waitress passed us by several times.
Then Gnu and Kimba showed up. Gnu wanted wings, but I explained to him
that we had been cut off, so we went to the Old Millstream. After 1
beer Kimba said she was tired, (for shame, woman) and they left.
Tomsass and I hit the boat.
On the way to the boat we were acosted by a very fat security guard. He
explained (after I nearly hit him) that the road was blocked and we had
to turn around. The only roadblock I saw was his fat sweaty ass, but
made a 180 nonetheless. We entered the parking garage and proceeded to
the roof.
"You always have to park at the top," I explained. "It's the safest way
to go."
On the way in Tomsass stated that he had to pee. Once in the lobby of
the casino I asked Tom if he had seen the dancing fountain.
"No, but it doesn't help me with having to pee."
I showed him the bathroom and he was gone for a very long time. After
that, we had to get cards. I had one, but it was confiscated by the
world's funniest looking cop because it had a 704d sticker on it. I
lose 'em all the time, so it's almost free advertising. Once we were
in, Tom proceeded to win the jackpot on a nickel slot machine, and then
we lost all our money. We left, after another forever long pee break,
and decided to head back for more wings. We slid through with 2 buds
and 3 minutes to spare. We took the wings back to Tom's brother's
house, and ate them on the back porch. This time, they actually put
sauce on them. The HOTTEST SAUCE EVER. My god, the burning. It hurt,
we both cried a lot, and each of us only ate 4. 4 tiny hot wings.
Thank god Tom had had enough. I could have ate 1 more, but MY ASS
BURNS! A LOT! We drank our tall cans in like 10 minutes, too. I bid
him adeu, and proceeded to get on the DUI INFORCED highway and head in
the wrong direction. This morning, I woke up on the floor under Gnu's
computer. What a night.
************
The first time I had blazin' wings, I was working at the sign shop. It
was actually the first time I went to Buffalo Wild Wings. I stopped in
and told the first guy I saw that I wanted a budweiser and a dozen of
their hottest wings. He told me to have a seat. Twenty minutes later a
waitress showed up to take my order. I repeated my order, with slightly
less gusto. About an hour later my food showed up, as did my beer. I
was ready to go.
I bit into the first wing, a drummie. It was good! It was pretty hot
too! ...and getting hotter. I finished the first wing with little mess,
and in a decent time. But the heat kept rising. The second wing was a
flapper. The kind with two bones. There's a technique, to get the meat
off without getting a ring of sauce around your mouth, but the chicken
has to be cooked perfectly. It wasn't. It was kinda tough. I got the
first bone out, and then it hit me. These wings were H O T. I stopped
right there, and drained my beer. It didn't help. Strangely enough,
the waitress was right there to ask me if I wanted another. I would
have found that funny, but my mouth was on fire. I nodded to her,
grimaced, and sucked the rest of the meat off of the bone. While I
waited for my beer, I went to the bathroom. My lips had started to
burn, and so had my fingers.
CARDINAL RULE OF HOT WING EATING: Before consuming hot wings wash your
hands and mouth area as if you already had. Leave them wet. Since hot
sauce is mostly oil, and water and oil don't mix, this technique creates
a "barrier" to protect the skin around your mouth, and any cuts or
scrapes on your hands.
I didn't do that. Too bad. I got back to the table, drank half the
second beer and picked up the third wing in agony. That's when I got
the fear.
"Toad, there is no way you are going to be able to eat that many wings.
12 is too many."
At that point I shut my brain down. Picked up another drummie, and ate
it. That was three. Then I gasped and finished off the beer. Then
another, but there was no more beer. NO MORE BEER! Teers streaming, I
headed for the bathroom, half running. I was gasping, crying, and
panting. I was hurt, but the machine wasn't going to stop. I was still
aiming for 12, after all. I wasn't going to quit, I would simply lose
or die. I ate 2 more, still no beer. I couldn't see, my nose was a
firehose of snot. I couldn't hardly breathe. It was awesome. I hit up
the bathroom one more time, and was ready to hit the road. The waitrees
had served me my bill during my last bathroom visit, and as I went up
front to pay my bill, she yelled to me if I want ed the other 6 wings I
laughed, face burning, and exited the building defeated for the first
time.
Master Toad, on the go!
