Day 3: Hot Sauce vs My Stomach or The Day My stomach almost exploded

Day 3 will be known as the day my stomach almost exploded.

So when I was thinking about what I wanted to do for day 3, i came across some hot sauce.

I wondered if I could actually drink an entire bottle of Tapatio.

What follows is the result.  Some may see it as a failure.  Others see it as foolish.  I see it as….well, a little bit of both.

The first mistake: I went for the 10 oz

See, Tapatio makes an easily pallatable 5 oz bottle of Hot Sauce.  And yes, I did buy one of those.

But looking at it being towered over by the other sizes of different branded hot sauces, I decided I had to man up.  And man up I did.

Big Sauce, little sauce

I doubled down.

I want to Vons for the 5oz.  Pancho Villas for the 10z.

I left Pancho Villa to go my Tuesday bible study,  The study was going to begin in 5 minutes, so i had to swallow a few gulps quickly as not be a distraction.  So i took about 3 ounces in multiple gulps, using Naked Juice’s Blue Machine and some pork rinds as my chaser.

pork rinds chaser

blue machine chaser

After about 3 gulps, i had to stop.

My stomach was burning

My mouth was burning

My bowls were burning.

I had to run to the car for my Tums to go.

WHen i returned, the Bible study had started, so I left the sauce on the table.

But the sauce did not leave me.

I refused to show the discomfort.  I refused to let them know what was going on just centimeters above the seat of the wooden chair i was sitting on.

The sauce remained on the kitchen table on the side.  I thought about taking some home to continue.

There I knew the roomates would not let me chicken out.

But i had to teach high school the next day.  And it was the first day back for the kids.

I had to be on top of my game, and i did not want to have my pants burning while the students story board their Christmas vacations.

And as the study went on, my stomach just kept pounding….and pounding

And pounding…

But still….a part of me wanted to test my limits…even though i think i was at my limit when that part of me decided to want to test it…especially since i started to see things that i dont think were really there

Then i came up with an idea…Mexican Food…

Sure, i had already reached my caloric intake limit for the day, but i wanted to see how much of that bottle i could kill….so the only solution would be to grab a burrito on the way out of Bible Study and see how much i could finish…even if it was just a few more drops….

So i go to Santana on 54th and EL Cajon to ge a Chicken Burrito.  IT was a pretty crappy burrito, to say the least.

As i approach the aprartment my stomach regains it normal balance and i think, hey, this won’t be so bad!

SO I thought

I unravel the burrito and pour one giant glob of Tapatio and take a bite.

The Final Showdown

THen another large glob, followed by a bite….

and another

and another

Until i could have no more.

The burrito, half gone

Burrito half gone

The bottle of Tapatio, also half gone

Tapatio Half Gone

5 ounces.

If only I had stuck to the small bottle….

And as they rush pregnant women to hospital rooms, I rushed myself to the bathroom

I will spare you the details.

And as I write these last words, trying desperately to keep myself from hurling on this keyboard, i leave this day with a new appreciation for Tapatio, and for the strength of my toilet.

And i vow never to do this again

And i will probably not consume any Tapatio for a few months, if not, years…

Day 2: Bike Rides, African Food, and Dives

Ok so for Day 2 i thought that my new thing for the day would be going on a bike ride with my buddy Jesse, who has ridden probably a few hundred feet of road over the past 10 years, Im guessing.  Maybe longer.

So I figured it would be enough of an adventure to tag along with Blythe as we ride around Rolando and College area on our bikes in mid afternoon.

Jesse and Blythe on bikes

Of course, little did I know where this adventure would take us.

First, he needed air in his tires.  Off to AMPM.  Thank Heaven.  Woops…wrong slogan.

To break him in, we rode around the side streets where the cars were likely parked and not zooming in and out.

I noticed that the average age of the people watering their lawns in this ‘hood was probably 70 years old, so unless there were hot rod grannies in these garages, we would be safe.

Of course, emboldened to venture past these side streets, the three of us took off down El Cajon Blvd westbound towards The Living Room coffee shop for a break.

Lets rewind.

I met up with Jesse at his place.

His place is about 4 miles from mine (up and down many hills).

I rode there.

THe Living Room is about a third of a mile from Jesse’s house.

Back to the story

Once leaving The Living Room, we decided to ride around and find a place to eat.  Then Blythe said “Let’s ride to the Tower Bar!”

A dive amongst dives.

Since I had wanted to go and had never been, and Jesse didn’t seem to mind either way, we made our ways down El Cajon, South on 54th towards University, and then west on University, past every possible ethnic pocket our city has to offer.  We arrive at the Tower  Bar at around 430.

Closed until 5

Needless to say, we were a bit dissapointed, but nonetheless, we figured we had some time now to eat

We rode across the street to look into this African looking restaurant.  The moment we rode by and stopped for a nano second to take in the environment, a guy, whose name we would later know was Ahmed, invited us into the Restaurant

We looked at each other and figured we would give this a try.

We locked our bikes.  Twice.

We walked in an sat at a table in a very African themed room, with Al Jazeera playing in English on a TV.

Ali Baba, i think

Ahmed tells us he is from Kenya.  He brings over the owner/cook and tells us to order from him

We asked for a menu

They didnt have any, he said in broken yet understandable English.

What do you guys have?

Chicken steak.  Beef Steak.  Lamb.  Rice.

We got all 4.

African style meats I am assuming.  And Rice.  I’ve never had African style food.  At least not that I am aware of.

African food????

So we all shared the chicken (a little salty and dry but still pretty good), the beef steak (surprisingly very tender and flavorful) and lamb (which was my favorite of the threee meats) and neither of us could even get close to finishing the huge plate of rice (not sure exaclty what was in it aside from peas and spices, I guess the drawback of not having a menu).

Chicken Steak

So as we were finishing, Ahmed then tells us that he doesn’t even work there.  He is just a big community guy and wanted to help the store out in business.  He also told us people say he looks like Barak Obama and that he can rap like TuPac but would not because i am guessing his humility.

He shared a bit abut his family (Somalian background) and how from there to Kenya to American they wend.  Then, as mysterioulsy as he appeared, he was gone.

We got the bill from who I assume was real owner (30 bucks cash, and a few bucks in tips) and we were on our way.

I am not going to lie, I wasn’t 100 percent positive the bikes would still be locked, but they were fine.

I looked at the time.  515.  Perfect.

We hopped on the bikes to Tower Bar, tied them up to a stop sign (and again, worried that the people of the night would find a way to break our locks), and went inside for 3 dollar beers, popcorn, and a game of pool

Tower Bar

Pretty cool little dive bar.  I think Jesse beat Blythe at pool, I wasn’t paying attention.  I was watching the movie they had on a big projector, “50 Worst Films of All Time.” I actually had shown parts of that video to my students in the past.

Then after a beer and salty snacks, we rode back to Jesse’s casa, up and down hills, past supposed thugs and dealers, by the smell of weed and cigarettes and trash, and eventually back to the front gate the JTrain’s complex.

I was tired.

“Blythe, can I put my bike in your SUV and take me home?”

“If it fits, sure.”

It fit.