So I was sitting at my computer doing my Rosetta Stone Spanish Language exercises and absentmindedly picking from a bag of peanuts – I do like my salty snacks – when I pulled out something that was definitely not a peanut. It was a desiccated carcass about half an inch long, reddish brown in color. It had what appeared to be little legs or tentacles sticking off it. I screamed in horror; spitting partially masticated bits of peanut all over my laptop screen.
Because we all love to share our disgust and horror, I dropped the “thing” back into the bag of peanuts and I dashed over to my landlady’s house.
“Oh, JesusMaryandJoseph,” I cried. “There’s a dead roach in my peanuts. I think I already ate some. There are other broken bits of it in the bag. Look! I’m going to throw up. Do you think I’ll die?”
She recoiled, suitably horrified. We went back and forth saying very bad words and shuddering with revulsion.
Then she calmed down and took a closer look. She frowned, picked it up, and popped it into her mouth. Now I know people in Mexico eat fried grasshoppers and drink worms in their mescal, but a cockroach? Are you serious?
“It’s a dried chili,” she said.
|Before you pass judgement ... |
what would you have thought?