I’ve done a lot of dumb things. I feel like I’m always writing under this feature about different dumb things I constantly find myself doing accidentally (and sometimes on purpose). The last time I wrote for this I told you one of my least favorite things I’ve ever ingested. And boy did she do it again!
It all started last weekend, when my house decided to host people for a fun and social Friday night. You know how it goes during an exceptionally busy first few weeks of school– you’re busy. You find yourself sleeping on just a bare mattress with only one blanket and a sweatshirt for pillow for almost three days. You catch yourself almost g-chatting a Professor trying to track them down to sign that Add/Drop form. Etc. So you can imagine my state of being when I was caught in the Mount Vernon Walmart, gathering ingredients for my world-famous punch. I shan’t share my full recipe as it is a family secret with me, myself, and I– but you do need two cans of pineapple juice, preferably with cubes. But. But. But. In this exact moment I grabbed the first two cans I saw– and I didn’t realize until it was far too late– that yes, yes I had chosen two cans of CRUSHED pineapple.
For those pineapple juice virgins, you can probably figure this out. Short answer; cubes of pineapple are a fun, weird surprise to find in your cup of punch. Crushed pineapple is death incarnate. It has the exact same texture as vomit– and it does a very good job as creating a very similar visual appearance as well. If you’ve never experienced it before– I implore you to google search it immediately. I feel like if I included some of the graphic pictures available on your search engine results I would be banned from the internet or something.
So it’s me– at around….. 10 pm? I am throwing together a punch, having fun/being cool. I open up those cans and dump them into my pitcher. Mind You the alcohol is already in the goddam pitcher; ie. there is no turning back. The fake vomit has already combined. It is way too late. I panic– I think, this shredded pineapple looks like the last thing I ever want to drink. It has soaked up literally all other parts of the punch. I try to spoon it out, and I end up spooning out the whole pitcher. I freak out further. In my rogue state, I grab my strainer. This will solve it, I’ll just pour the punch through the strainer– then I’ll get whatever comes out from underneath and put it back into the pitcher. I am so smart. This is exactly what I thought to myself. So I do exactly this– I place the strainer in my sink, and pour maybe 2/3 of the punch through the holed bowl. I do just this– before I realize that there is nothing catching the new “good” substance. It is in fact simply swirling down, my, drain.
I poured the alcohol, non-vomit substance part, of the punch– down– the– drain.
I still feel dumb but! good news! I added some of my neighbor’s tequila and no one (almost everyone) noticed.
Life lesson: put something under your strainer! But also just don’t buy crushed pineapple in the first place unless you yearn for the taste and texture of vomit.