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Posted August 11, 2005 by Nick Lindauer in Hot Sauce News
 
 

What’s On My Sandwich? Death!


Note: The following story really happened, and I’m usually not allowed to tell it because it paints my husband in a less than flattering light. So, I want to preface this by saying that my husband is the nicest sweetest man on the planet. Ok, now lets get on with the story.

Some time ago my husband bought some hot sauce for me. He knew I liked REALLY hot stuff, so my darling ordered a bottle of Blair’s Jersey Death Sauce. To put the rest of this story in perspective, here is Nick’s review of Blair’s Jersey Death Sauce. I think the most important sentence in that review is that this sauce should not be used without dilution.

Anyway, my husband didn’t read that bit on the bottle, and decided to surprise me by making me a snack incorporating his new find. He made me a grilled cheese sandwich liberally doused in Blair’s Jersey Death Sauce. We’re talking globs, here.

I ate about half the sandwich, and my face started tingling, my ears were ringing, and well, loathe as I am to admit it, the sauce was too hot for me. I put the sandwich down, and went off to pour a glass of milk. My husband comes around, and we have the following conversation:

(Keep in mind that at this point I do not know what hot sauce is on my sandwich, and why it is burning me up so bad.)

Him: What’s wrong with the sandwich?
Me: I’m not sure I’m loving the new hot sauce – it’s a tad too hot for me.
Him: What? What are you talking about? There’s no such thing as a sauce too hot for you. It’s perfect! Finish the sandwich!
Me: I’m telling you, I’m not finishing that sandwich. It’s inedible!
Him: Oh puh-lease, I had the same sandwich and I was fine with it. How could you not handle the heat?

(This went on for a few minutes, and then inspiration struck.)

Me: Okay, tell you what. You eat a bite of this sandwich, and if you tell me that it’s fine, I’ll eat the rest of it.
Him: No!
Me: I’m not eating this sandwich unless you take a bite. Unless you know, you’re admitting that you had a considerably less hot sandwich

(The women in the crowd will recognize this as the oldest lie exposure gambit in the book. Being male, he cannot now find a manly way to back out of the pain he knows awaits him if he takes a bite. On the other hand, he definitely cannot admit that I’m right.)

He took a bite.

I’ve promised not to reveal what happened next in the interest of staying married, but let’s just say that several gallons of milk and a big honking can of I-told-you-so may have been involved.


Nick Lindauer

 
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