Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Gummy Bears of Doom ...


I've never told this story here before ... but I've told Stoney.  So since he knows about my humiliation, I might as well share it with you guys.

When I was in my early twenties, my best friend K and I decided to drive down and spend the weekend in St. Louis.  She didn't drink ... and I don't think I was 21 yet ... so I hadn't discovered my love of all things tequila   So this was a very PG-rated weekend.  I'd just come off a long, painful relationship.  So we were just two best friends spending the weekend at a theme park and having a good time.

She was working at a grocery store and we needed to stop by and pick up her paycheck before heading out of town.  They had an enormous bulk food section ... so while she was taking care of her paperwork ... I went shopping.  I picked out several types of candies and snacks ... things we could munch on during the drive down.   But then I saw it ... sugar free gummy bears.

Now, I was trying to lose weight.  This goes without saying.   From about eight years old to ... now ... I've pretty much been on a continual quest to become smaller.  Obviously hasn't worked so far.  In any case ... the sign said that these gummy bears had zero calories ... and I decided that was the perfect treat.  I could eat a whole damned bag of these things and not gain a pound.  Why wasn't I always eating these?!

K had a brand new car and offered to drive ... and so we were off.   It's about a two hour drive ... and I'd say I was eating about a quarter pound of gummies per hour.   We were laughing ... singing to the radio ... and gorging on gummy bears.   Well, I was ... K was never crazy about gummy bears and she was snacking on pretzel sticks.

We get near the park, check into the hotel and drop off our luggage, change clothes, and head to the park.   We bought our weekend passes and walked through the gates and had one of those souvenir pictures taken.   We were looking at a map trying to decide which area to hit first ... when it hit me.

You know that low, rolling, growl that your intestines make when you've eaten something very, very wrong?   That sound came from me ... and I casually mentioned that I needed to run into a bathroom really quick.   That "quick trip" was awful.  Within minutes I knew those gummy bears were trying to kill me.  They were trying to claw their way out ... and were doing a fairly good job of it.

After awhile, K stuck her head in to see if I was alright.  I told her to go ahead and hit the show without me.  I told her I'd be waiting for her outside when the show was over.  I wasn't.

By the time the show was over, I knew if it were humanly possible I had to get back to the hotel.  We spent the rest of the evening in a Super 8 Motel ... she lying on the bed watching basic cable ... and me in the tiny, dirty bathroom praying for sweet, sweet death.

By the second day, the plague of gummies had mostly passed.  We went to the park as planned ... and I only had to make pit stops every 60 minutes or so ... instead of every 60 seconds.   To this day, when I see sugar free gummy bears in a store, I will visible shudder.  They are the work of Satan.  The delicious, fruit-flavored work of Satan.

Respect the pooper ... do not eat sugar free gummy bears. 

Unless you have a colonoscopy scheduled.  In which case, I suggest about 24 oz.

When your sweetie tells you
Everything'll be okay,
Just skeep-beep de bop-bop
Beep bop bo-dope skeetle-at-de-op-de-day!

Cab Calloway - The Scat Song

No comments:

Post a Comment