Saturday, September 18, 2010

Pepper me this

So I'm at the discount grocery (duh) and there's this totally obnoxious broad with nine tons of obnoxious crap in her cart (Juicy Juice, Barbie fruit snacks, Gogurt) and she's taking up about 90 percent of the produce aisle while she picks One. Goddamn. Green. Bean. at a time, inspecting each one, putting it back, getting another ... you get the picture.

I'm trying to reach around her and her cart in order to get a lousy cucumber. GOD FORBID she should inch her cart forward to free up the space in front of the bin I'm after.

Broad's got a little kid with her, who is fingering every shiny green vegetable within her reach, to which (of course) Mom is oblivious.

The kid starts pawing on the jalapenos, which low and behold, finally gets our darling Stepford Wife's attention.

"No, Brittany, No!" She bellows, dropping her lone green bean. "That's a hot pepper. It's loaded with dangerous oils. We never ever touch a hot pepper!"

She proceeds to fish a foil packet from her purse, frantically tears it open, pulls out the sanitized wipe and starts scrubbing the kid's hand. The kid stares off vacantly with a slacked jaw.

No, I didn't tell the miserable off. (Did it ever occur to you that the general population does not appreciate your kid's snotty hands all over the vegetables not to mention your own on the reject beans [no doubt rejected for some invalid and candy ass reason] and on top of all the ways you're showing your kid to have zero concern over anything but her own needs, you've nixed any chances of her ever enjoying a decent pepper dish [for no goddamn reason as there isn't any goddamn pepper oil on the outside of that jalapeno] and she'll likely grow up to be one of those silly little broads wrinkling her nose and saying, "eeewwww!" every time she's served something other than a sandwich made with processed ham and Wonder Bread?) Yes, I rolled my eyes and made a big HUFF noise. (GOOD CHRIST, lady, you are a candy ass.) No, she didn't notice.

Behold everything that is wrong with America.

* * *

Your humble hostess concedes that when cleaning, dicing and deseeding large quantities of hot peppers, the residue can stick to the hands, thereby putting the act of manual self-stimulation in peril. In such a case, your hostess advises you to vigorously rub a liberal amount of olive oil on your hands, which will dissolve the oil, then wash with soap and water. Test heat of fingers with tip of tongue and repeat as necessary before employing fingers elsewhere on the body.*

The reader should not infer that his humble hostess has any personal experience with manual stimulation and hands contaminated with hot oil begotten from preparing, say, Hot Hungarian Lecho,** or any other such dish.

*This method is also effective in the removal of tree sap from the hands.

**Recipe forthcoming.

* * *


Bill said...

I see that same behavior all the time at our local Safeway. I love it, too, when someone eats about a half pound of grapes to see if they're worth taking home. Protecting ones kids from anything and everything, like pepper oil, is very common now. Just look at the latest move by the Cleveland Indians; banning peanuts from two stadium sections. I'm glad my kids are grown.

Erin O'Brien said...

Hey Bill, now don't think for a minute that I don't appreciate your readership and comments and all, but seriously dude, LIGHTEN UP.

Bill said...

OK. I'm taking some deep breaths. Was it the Cleveland/peanut thing?

The {G} Family said...

At our last birthday party, for my 6 year old, we had one of those Moms. She came with a 6 yr old and 4 yr old. They were playing in our backyard. She reapplied sunscreen 3 times, sanitized their hands about 10 times and "hydrated" them each about 15 times. By which I mean she pulled out the child's sippy cup, ran over to her and held the cup up for the her to drink. While the child stood there with her arms at her sides. It was the funniest/craziest thing I have seen in a long time! I would think being a Mom like that would be very tiring!

Anonymous said...

In this land of liberty and chastity it should be permissible for any grocery shopper to slap the shit out of any parent heard instructing their kid using first person, plural personal pronouns.


Chris said...

Oooooh, lecho! I haven't made lecho in years (my ex is half hungarian). I must remedy this forthwith.

Although it does mean dealing with the morons who clog the produce aisles ...

philbilly said...

I love this blog more every day.

First generation in the history of developed nations where the kids will not outlive the parents, because of obesity.

Pediatric surgeons are alarmed at the lack of bone density in these butterballs.

I tripped over a hose in my shop a month ago while walking fast in the dark, yes I am that cheap, and did a full on gainer into the concrete, hit my head, broke my glasses, multiple sprains and contusions. Two ibuprofen and back to work. My bones, like my head, are very dense.
When I was a kid, I hated the Kool-aid at my house because Mom would cut back the sugar to nothing. Other kids' Kool-aid was sweet and delicious. I was forced to eat broccoli, as well.

I owe that lady.

On peppers, I recommend Dave's Insanity Sauce with the following caveat:
This stuff is dangerous. Do not get on hands and then unwittingly use the bathroom. You will not forget twice.

My intro to Dave's was taco nite at the Euc. "Hey, philbilly, you like hot sauce, try this, it's sposed' ta be real hot."

I scoffed and loaded about an ounce onto 4 tacos. All night I had a glass of ice on my lips and downed a fair amount of Bacardi painkillers. Later that same evening, around 4am, a disturbing series of events unfolded. Immediately, I had to reach the throne, whereupon a rip roaring bodily function rocked my world for a what seemed like eternity. It was as if the cloven hoof of Satan was reaching up from the bowl to flay my innards. I began to seriously consider how embarrassing it was going to be to crawl to the phone and call an ambulance. In the aftermath, I have no allergies from cats and pollen anymore.

On the other hand, a few drops of Dave's in a large vat of chili
will transform the concoction into a hallucinagenic DisneyWorld for your tongue. Use sparingly.

Ms Amanda said...

As always, a hilarious read.
I am looking forward to your recipe, not because I'll make it, but because you give the best instructions.
Good call on the pepper oil & touching yourself. I once rubbed BOTH of my eyes with pepper oil coated hands. I've never panicked so well in my life. My legally blind friend had to lead to me to the bathroom for multiple flushing with cool water. Did I mention I was in a meeting at work when this happened? Classy.

Amy L. Hanna said...

First, I believe thanks are in order for phil on his TMI PSA. Let it stand (or in this case, sit) as a lesson on the abuse of hot sauce whose respective powers had been heretofore painfully underestimated. Serves you right.

Slightly off-topic, but my two grocery shopping etiquette faux pas faves are: Cart-blocking the very center of the aisle/end caps while retrieving items from opposite sides or ends, and pulling the cart around the store as opposed to pushing it from the seat end as its use was intended.

As far as the helicopter-reared yuppie offspring, you're on your own.

Bill said...

Never attempt to eat or taste a ghost pepper. Some unbelievable horror stories, similar to philbilly's, regarding these rediculously hot peppers.

Matt Conlon said...

Jeez, people are ridiculous. You should have walked by and sneezed on her green beans.

Kev D. said...

I completely get what you are saying. I did a bit about it once (well, one subject was picky produce people, taking forever)... eventually tried writing it out here... hope you have time to read it

Good stuff. Keep it up :)

jomeincke said...

That mother would be better off teaching her kid practical information like, Dave's Insanity Sauce + Bearded Husband = Sitz Bath. Wish my mom had told me.


philbilly said...

jo, I feel your pain.

Daniel said...


"Test heat of fingers with tip of tongue and repeat as necessary before employing fingers elsewhere on the body.*"

My better half (she's a chef-ly type, and likes her peppers) has, on more than one occasion, dropped me an emergency text proclaiming that her vagina was on fire.

I'm pretty sure that if the USDA gets enough complaints, they'll have to start labeling the peppers with federally mandated warnings.

philbilly said...

Somewhere, in a dimly lit office, rent in arrearage, above a greasy diner and a dollar store, a lawyer is roused from their 5 martini lunch at the mere mention of a pepper to pecker injury claim.

WV: fedworks. Cleveland's best sports team. Nice job, boys(and girls), on to Newcomerstown.

philbilly said...

Sunuvabitch, I just read a rumor that they got the prosecutor. Didn't any of these boomers watch Edward G. Robinson as a kid? Don't F wit da FBI, man. Pure arrogance.

Once I mentioned casually to a cop friend that a semi-truck was showing up, idling and leaving our parking lot in the wee hours, night after night. Few days later, a G-man knocks on my door. Turns out the truck was hauling stolen chickens across state lines and they were waiting for a safe place to unload down the road.

Man that dude looked right through me. He was pleasant, but I got the feeling he was subtly doing that Schwarzenegger Terminator avionics deal on me. I was getting profiled. He thanked me and left, and I vowed to myself to pay all my parking tickets asap.

What were we talkin bout?

Kate said...

Ha! I love this! I'm new to your blog and was just scrolling about when I landed on this gem. This reminds me of the stepford couples who eat at Chipotle but stop at McD's before so Johnny and Susie don't have to eat that food that's just "too spicy for their little tummies." gag.