H is for Hell Have No Fury Like a Vagina Scorned!

I should warn you in advance, this post may get a little graphic.

No, not that graphic you bunch of pervs!

OK, so something you should know about me is that I am a totally awesome cook. I owned a pizzeria and an Italian restaurant. I can make a chicken Marsala that will knock your socks right off. Seriously, you'll have to look around for your socks when you're finished eating. I also bake and am always trying out new recipes.

Now I love Mexican food. There were a couple of dishes that I could get in the Mexican Village in Michigan that I just can't get here. So, I scoured the internet looking for recipes. I came across one that looked and sounded pretty good, so I made my list and headed to the grocery store.

I know nothing about Mexican food other than it has lots and lots of cheese and that makes me happy. That said, my recipe called for a pepper I had never heard of: Poblano. So I made my way down the produce aisle and read over the pepper descriptions. They all warned about using gloves to handle the peppers. Ha! Wusses! Who needs gloves to handle little old peppers? Unfortunately, none of the peppers had the names below them, only the warnings and of course, I couldn't find anyone that knew the difference. I had the same luck at Kroger's. So when I went to Ingles, after 2 days of pepper hunting, I figured I don't care what they have, I am coming home with some damn peppers!

I walked into the produce section, found the peppers and again there were no names by most of them. Then I finally saw a name above some: Poblanos. At last! They were bright and colorful so I decided to get some red, yellow and orange in case they had a slightly different flavor, but mainly because I thought they were pretty.

I went home and started making my meal. I cut the peppers removed the seeds and put them in the crockpot to cook with the other ingredients, adding two extra peppers just because I felt like it. There were now six total. I turned on the crockpot to let everything cook overnight.

WOO, that'll clear your sinuses! AAAAAAAAAACHOOO!  I grabbed the pepper stems and seeds and put them in the garbage, washed my hands, went to take my shower and then headed to bed. I was lying in bed for about 10 minutes thinking about tomorrow's yummy dinner when my face started burning. At first, I didn't pay much attention to it, but then it got worse. My nose and my eyes were on fire. OMG, now so were my hands! WTH?!? 

I checked and I didn't appear to be on fire, although that's what it felt like. I got up and washed my hands again ... and again ... and again ... and uh-oh. Other parts started burning ... parts that should never burn unless you have had unprotected sex with several sailors, the Marine Corps or any guy that Paris Hilton has ever dated. Oh crap!

I grabbed a washcloth and started washing everything. Okay, now I was just driving the pain deeper. My vagina felt like there was some little man firing a blow torch at it. My hands, particularly underneath my nails felt like someone had shoved hot bamboo shards under my nails. The more I touched, the more stuff that started burning. I kind of started to wish I was on fire so that eventually I would just get numb to the pain.

Then I had a brainstorm: Mylanta! It stops acid and heartburn, maybe it could stop nail bed and vagina fire as well. I ran to the refrigerator. Shit! The bottle was almost empty. I grabbed it, a gallon of milk, and a bowl and ran into the bathroom. I poured the milk into a bowl and sat on the toilet. I proceeded to douse my crotch with Mylanta then stuck my fingers in the bowl of milk while I waited for the Mylanta to take effect. After about five minutes the sting was gone so I washed it off.

Nope, sting's still there! More Mylanta! And FAST! I am sorry to say that I had to sleep with Mylanta on my crotch and soap between my fingers and nail beds (I clawed a bar of Dial). I went back to Ingles several days later and discovered that the tags for the peppers went to the peppers above the label, not below. So instead of getting Poblano peppers, I got Habanero peppers, which are some of the hottest peppers you can buy in the U.S.

I am happy to report my vagina and the rest of my body have fully recovered. Although, the emotional scars are still there. Hell have no fury like a vagina scorned! I now wear gloves when I am handling any kind of pepper - even black.

(BTW, the meal I made tasted like complete crap. I wouldn't even feed it to my dogs and they eat cat poop!)