Hot Chili

Okay, here's a new column for ya. A buddy thought it would be cool if I shared this story:


My old friends Lorna and Joe had a chili Christmas party every year back in the early 90s. In 92, Lorna's brother Daniel and I got there early because we'd been gloating for weeks about how manly we were, and how her little sissy chili would never be spicy enough for us (actually I'm a wimp when it comes to spices. My big, exxagerating, overly-dramatic mouth gets me in so much trouble). So she said she'd make a regular pot, and then she'd start us on another one and let that be the "manly men" one, so we were welcome to spice it up and "show her how it's done." So we did. We kept adding hot stuff, making it spicier and spicier. Then, when all the guests had arrived and we were all ready to eat, Lorna said "Daniel and Bobby are now going to demonstrate their machismo for us all, by eating the chili they made right in front of us."



We each got a bowl. All eyes were on us. We liften spoons to mouths... I like to died. So did he. I mean, we were on FIRE. Neither of us could eat more than one single bite. A couple other guys tried, with the same result. THEN, my ex (this was before we'd started dating) showed up for the party, and as a joke no one told her about the hot chili. Someone made her a bowl, to see what would happen ....



She sat there and ate it with absolutely no noticeable wincing or anything, then said it was great, just like "Uncle Tino" used to make it, and got up, made herself another bowl, and ate it again. I think I may have started falling in love with her that day, in part because of this incident (to my doom, as it turned out, except for the fact that I got the three best little boys in the world out of the deal).

And now, back to work.