"After visiting the Grand Canyon we swung south to catch some of the historic Route 66. Before we left we visited Mr. D'z, a famous retro burger joint. I ordered and ate their huge cheeseburger, it was a gloriously juicy monstrosity and needless to say, I left pleasantly stuffed. As we headed East the good feelings began to wane as general gastrointestinal malaise set in. I scanned the horizon for any sign of a rest stop, but there was nothing but desert in all directions. The discomfort quickly exacerbated into the warning bells of an imminent gut bomb. With the speedometer needle quivering at 90 I frantically begged for any tree, shrub, anything at all as I became convinced that Satan had hatched that cheeseburger into an angry, live scorpion in my lower gut. After what seemed like an eternity, tiny dots appeared on the horizon: an Indian Trading Post. Hunched over like a sumo wrestler, I tersely uttered 'rest room' to the clerk, who smiled knowingly at my obvious discomfort. 'Round back' she said. Summoning all my pucker power, I proceeded to what I envisioned to be the end of my misery: a clean, cool rest room. What I encountered was a scene reminiscent of the scene in the movie Trainspotting. It was a rest room in theory only. There was no door on this chamber of horrors, no door on the toilet stall, no toilet seat on the toilet, no toilet paper and two bikers were shooting up at the sink. Most of the events that followed are too shocking for disclosure. Eventually I made it to a kinder, gentler rest stop where I was able to burn my clothes and clean up" (Source).
"I've probably consumed about ten pounds of paper because I thought it was part of a cake. There is a super popular cake in Japan that I love. It typically comes wrapped in a thin sheet of paper. I thought the paper was part of the cake and always wolfed it down along with cake. At that point, I had just come to Japan and my Japanese wasn't good enough to read the warning not to eat the paper. The most annoying thing is that several Japanese friends WATCHED me do this. I'm pretty sure they just didn't want to embarrass me by saying, 'Hey, dude. You know you're eating paper, right?' But a small part of me wonders whether they secretly found it amusing and wanted to see if I would figure it out myself. Well, I didn't!" (Source).
"A cute guy I didn't know very well asked me out on a date. He took me to dinner and much to my disappointment pulled up to a sushi restaurant. In my nervousness, I'd forgotten to mention I was a vegetarian and not wanting to be rude, I decided to 'go with the flow' and order whatever vegetable dishes were available. Asians eat a lot of veggies, right? I had never had sushi before and didn't know what to expect. I admitted my lack of experience to my date. He laughed and told me he would order for me. He ordered a bunch of exotic sounding dishes I'd never heard of before then excused himself to use the restroom. The waiter arrived with warm hand towels and a little bowl of fresh 'green peas' and set them before me. I washed my hands then popped one whole 'pea' into my mouth. Big mistake. I worked on that sucker trying to get it to break down enough so I could swallow it. They were huge. Right before my date arrived back to the table I thought about ditching the half-chewed fibrous, slobbery soybean mess into the hand towel, but the waiter diligently swooped in and removed my crumpled washcloth before I could spit my mouthful into it. Now my date sat before me and I sat there petrified, chewing. Chewing, chewing! I saw him reach over and break open one of the little green peas and eat the seeds out. 'Try some edamame.' He offered. No thanks, already working on some, I think. Dinner arrives. It looks awful. Raw fish. I'll just sit here and chew. I don't touch a bite. Cute guy gets increasingly angry. It ends with him saying, 'Well if I knew you were a vegetarian I would have taken you someplace else, but it would have been nice for you to at least spit out your gum during dinner.' There was no second date" (Source).
"I love those those mini Babybel cheeses with the red wax on the outside. Yes, it tastes so good. The moment I bite into the red outer covering and slowly started chewing it as if I was a part of ad. Yummmmm. Until the day I discovered that it was wax. Wax that was meant to cover the cheese and protect it. That's when I started freaking out. Did some online reading and realized that it's non-toxic. Safe! Somewhere deep down I had a feeling something was not right or I wasn't doing something the right way. It was probably in my stomach which hurt me every time I ate this" (Source).
"When I was about 10, my family and I went to Long John Silvers. I ordered fish and chips. Both my parents asked me a few times if I was sure. I, of course, got indignant. I was not a kid. I knew what I wanted. The food came. I started to eat and almost immediately spit the breaded fish out. 'It's fish!' (Note: I hated fish) 'Of course it is. It's fish and chips,' my dad says. 'What did you think it was?' my mom asks. Rather sheepishly I replied, 'Chicken?' I've never lived that down." (Source)
"When I was in college, buffets were the best things - you'd stuff your face once a day for some ridiculously cheap student price. There was a sushi chain that I used to go to with a friend. This one time was a gem. To stop us gluttons from eating them poor, this place forced a large bowl of soup noodles on us as a starter. We followed up with something like 10 rounds of chawanmushi ( steamed eggs), 10 handrolls and 20 rounds of sushi and fried stuff. Each. Then we saw they had 2 free rounds of fruit for each diner so we got the waiter over and asked for them. A bit of context - we're both 5'5" and something like 120lbs then and we'd been chugging that food in under an hour and a half (there's a time limit). The waiter was quite sick of serving us by then and gave this dirty look asking if we're sure before almost sneeringly commenting that wastage is chargeable. A challenge! Of course we couldn't back down and finished the plates of watermelon that came. It didn't occur to me that watermelon was mostly water and I left the place literally feeling watermelon in my throat. I could feel juice when I burped. Then my friend poked me while walking and I literally puked a stream of unadulterated watermelon chunks and juice. I learnt that day that I should stop eating when food stops going down my throat" (Source).
"This was extremely embarrassing. I was invited to a colleague's church. It was very modern and felt much like attending a concert with the pastor being like a motivational speaker. At the end of the service as I was walking out, I noticed people dipping their hands into a huge glass jar filled with what looked like colorful mini marshmallows. I followed suite, grabbed a few and popped them in my mouth. As I began chewing, I realized my mistake. Too late, the pastor came up to talk to me and I had to hide them in my cheek, and began mumbling like an idiot. I had been chewing used ear plugs that people were throwing into the jar. I couldn't wait to get out of there and spit them out. I don't know what the people who saw me do this thought but I did notice that the next time I attended this church, the glass jar was gone" (Source).
"I was out with a friend of mine and we went to a Chinese place where after the meal they give free fortune cookies. I had no idea what fortune cookies and ate mine before my friend did and I had no clue I was about to be chewing paper. Then my friend cracked open the cookie and read out her message and asked what's on mine. I said, 'What message? I didn't get any message.' Then we both looked at each other, a moment of silence and we both laughed" (Source)
"I never liked seafood very much. Growing up New England this was a problem at times but I was able to avoid it. Fast forward to age 18 when I was in college. My roommate's family was visiting from out of town and they graciously invited me to join them for dinner. They took us to a really high end restaurant and someone ordered a couple appetizers including something very close to a shrimp scampi, crusted with bread crumbs and served in a rich sauce. I had no idea what to do when someone put one on my plate. I noticed my roommate eating his with his fingers but I didn't pay close enough attention and I ate the tail with the shell still on. It was a little 'crunchy' to say the least and would not have been an issue if not for my roommate's 17-year-old sister watching me the entire time. 'Did you just eat the tail...?' Not subtle, no hint of discretion, just a high school girl incredulous mocking and condemnation all wrapped up into 6 words. There's not really a good answer when suddenly everyone is looking at you and you don't really want to admit how far outside your comfort zone the situation currently is. I'm sure I turned 17 shades of red in the span of a few seconds before her dad deflected conversation away from me with a self deprecating joke about a faux pas he made once. More than 30 years ago and it still pops in my mind when I'm out at a nice restaurant" (Source).
"When I was a kid my family went to a party. Unfortunately for me, I was the only kid my age so I had no one to play with and nothing to do. Nothing except eat of course. Now usually my mother policed what I ate pretty well. But I was free to sample everything I wanted. And sample I did. Chips, hot dog, cake; I ate everything. And then I hit the soda table. I made a monster sized cup of every single sweet drink on the table, from root beer to orange juice, and rushed off with my diabetic treat. After downing it I started to feel a bit queasy so I went to self medicate. With ice cream. A really bad idea. I'm more than a little lactose intolerant. My mother had always been careful of dairy with me, which I hated and now she wasn't around. And no way could ice cream ever make me feel worse. So I had a cup of chocolate ice cream. About 5 minutes after I downed the ice cream I rushed to the bathroom. I barely made it inside before I threw up everything. It came out my nose as well as my mouth. Ever have a chunk of hot dog come out your nose? It hurt so bad. I cleaned up while crying. No way was I was letting anyone know what happened. I went into the room with the babies and went to sleep. It was where I obviously belonged" (Source).
"During college I crashed nearly a 100 weddings with a friend. We were, what you call 'Serial Wedding Crashers.' Can you blame us? We were perpetually hungry college kids. And we were never caught. So, this happened when we were crashing our 24th wedding. Went in as usual and I started eating everything in sight. And then I ate some more. I kept on eating till my stomach could take no more. It was bliss! Then came the time for desserts. My favorite wedding dessert is ice cream. I reached the ice cream table, took a bowl and extended it towards the guy who was serving. He looked at me, and then said, 'Sir, will you have Tutti-Frutti as usual? Tutti Frutti was my favorite flavor. But how did this guy know? Then it hit me. In a small town like this, there can be no more than four or five wedding caterers. And since we had visited ALL the weddings; after a time, caterers would start getting repeated. And so would the servers. So this guy had actually served me at weddings before. Until that moment, I had prided myself in my anonymity skills. I was proud to have never been recognized by any of the guests. But I had never thought about the caterers and servers! That moment, with the server looking at me; his face twisted in a sly smile that seemed to say 'I know your dirty little secret!' I felt so embarrassed and ashamed, but only for a moment. I recovered myself, put a shameless grin back on my face and said, 'No, I'll have Black-Currant today. After all, you only live once!" (Source).
"I went to the UK for school. I didn't know anyone and I was not very close to my flatmates either. I never carried much cash around preferring to swipe my debit to make purchases. One day my card stopped working. The bank informs me that my account got blocked and that they would get back to me in a day. I figured the 8 quid in my wallet would be enough to get me through the day. But the issue with the bank took 14 days to sort out. I had no money. All I had in my fridge at that point was half a liter of milk, 2 apples and 4 slices of bread. I made this last for about 3 days. I then asked my flatmates to spot me for a few days until I overheard one of them complaining. I stopped asking them after that. To get rid of my hunger pangs, I resorted to filling myself up with a lot of water supplemented with a few chugs of milk I snuck from my flatmates. I also tried my best to sleep for as long as possible. This went on for a few more days until I couldn't take it any more. I began shoplifting sandwiches from the supermarket. It was surprisingly easy. This kept me going until my account got unblocked. The last 3 days before the issue got solved were the worst. My body was extremely weak and I was getting delirious from the lack of food. I really don't know why I didn't swallow my pride and ask my flatmates for more help. I am still ashamed of taking those sandwiches." (Source)
"When I was 6 my Great Grandma had a party at her house. Somehow my aunt ended up in charge of feeding me. I asked for dinner, because the counters were too high and I was famished, and she said, 'You are a little glutton! You will wait until everyone else has had food!' I went outside, sat on the front porch and cried in hunger. After what felt like hours to me, but was probably only a few minutes, my Great Grandma saw me. She prepared a plate and said, pointedly in front of my aunt, 'Go wash your hands and then you can get your plate off the counter and eat.' Happily I ran to the bathroom and came back. I reached up to the counter that I could barely see over and grabbed my plate of food. I looked at the food and was confused, it did not look that good or like what everyone else was eating. However, I had been trained to not complain about food and to eat what I was given. So I started to eat. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever tasted. I smelled it, my eyes absolutely watered at the aroma. I retched in disgust as I chewed the soft, filmy, oily food. I looked around to see if I had made a mistake, but nobody was paying me attention except my aunt. She came up to me and said, 'You begged for food, now eat your plate and you might get dessert, you filthy glutton'. Dutifully I put one forkful in my mouth at a time and tried to swallow it quickly but I simply could not keep it down though and finally I gave up with only about half of it done. I stood up and asked my aunt to be excused, she chided me for not eating my whole meal, "You did not eat all of your food! You need to finish or I will tell your Mom!' Fearing being punished I tried to fork more of the food into my mouth, but I could not. With tears streaming down my face, my aunt's threats in my ear, and the fear of being punished, I slowly took my plate to the sink where my Grandpa was cleaning the dishes. I handed the plate up to him and I heard him drop the dishes he was cleaning. 'Where did you get this?' 'Off of the counter.' 'Did you eat any of it?' I was afraid I was going to be in trouble for not eating all of it. 'Yes, I ate as much as I could, I am full now.' 'You ATE CAT FOOD?'
My aunt snickered and said "He was so greedy for food, he grabbed the wrong plate. I tried to warn him! He is such a bad child." I started to cry and screamed at my aunt, 'She's lying!' and used every curse word I knew. I was then forced to sit in a corner for punishment the remainder of the evening. As the night wore on, I was increasingly embarrassed as my aunt told everyone how I was such a little glutton that I would eat cat food and not even know it. My cousins started to call me names. After a while my Great Grandma asked where I had obtained the cat food. I told her. She kept saying she was confused, because she knew she had set out a plate for me, and she could not understand how I had got the cat food because it was on a higher shelf. She went and looked and saw the plate she had prepared for me was on the higher shelf. She asked everyone how it got there, but nobody had any idea. A while later my aunt, who was getting increasingly drunk, started telling everyone how she had taught 'the little fat pig' a lesson by making me eat cat food. Apparently when I went to wash my hands, she had switched the plates around. She claimed she thought I would recognize it as cat food and not eat it, but learn a lesson from it. Instead she had been amazed that I ate it and then to teach me a lesson tried to force me to eat the whole thing. Yet because I had thrown such a fit the adults had decided I was to maintain my punishment. Except my Great Grandmother who was quite angry and prepared me a slice of her pie. When she was told she should not give it to me, apparently she gave everyone, especially my aunt, some very choice words, then gave me a large piece of her delicious blackberry pie with a huge scoop of ice cream on it. She told me to forget about the dinner and that everything would be okay. This is all many years ago now, but I can still remember how disgusting the cat food was and to this day I feel bad for cats who eat it" (Source).
"I moved to Texas about 20 years ago and had never eaten Mexican food prior to moving here except tacos from Taco Bell when I was a teenager and of course that doesn't count. I had heard about tamales often, people raved about how wonderful they were, around Thanksgiving and Christmas they are everywhere. So I finally decided to try a tamale. I was at a fresh food store called Central Market and they had fresh pork tamales so I bought 1/2 a dozen. I was told to just wrap a damp paper towel around them and pop them in the microwave for maybe 15 seconds. I go home, heat up my tamales and sat down to eat, and really could NOT understand why people thought these things were so wonderful. The the filling was good but the outside just tasted nasty! It was like eating paper. I ate several tamales over a couple of days before deciding they just weren't for me. I later learned you DON'T eat the husk, it's just for cooking! I then ate many fresh pork tamales withOUT the corn husk for years before becoming a vegetarian, now I just get bean tamales during the holiday and they are aMAZing" (Source).
"First, you need to know this. Sometimes, I have a craving for dirty fast food. Well, who doesn't? And sometimes, I can't speak without stammering. I want to say one word, then my tongue rolls and it ends up sounding something completely different. So one day I went to a Burger King to get a cold drink on a very hot day. I stepped forward to the counter. Me: Hello. Can I get a medium frozen cock? Her: A medium what? Me: I am sorry. A medium frozen cock. Her: Do you mean --- a medium frozen coke? Me: (Embarrassed) Yes, a medium frozen coke, please. Her: Yes sir, do you want something else? Me: (I wanted a hot dog. But, no. Not after ordering a medium frozen cock) No, that should be it. Thank you! I grabbed the drink, and ran out of the shop. Never went there again (Source)"
"In elementary school, I was invited to a birthday party at the home of a classmate who was Russian. I wasn't concerned about any cultural oddities because part of my family is Russian and I spoke a little at the time. I probably should have been concerned. Russian family or not, I was an American girl, ripe for other little girls to play tricks on. I was ready for the obligatory birthday party sugar rush, but the cake hadn't been brought out yet. Svetlana (my so-called friend) brings me a glass dessert dish full of tiny round orange candies. 'Here, try. Russian treat!' I looked at her skeptically. The candies looked wet and jiggly. Maybe it's like Jell-O, I thought. Whatevs. I was fungry. I dug a large spoon into the bowl and shoveled a scoopful of delicious, sweet candy into my mouth. Except it wasn't sweet - it was salty. 'FISH EGGS!' the girls squealed, laughing hysterically as I vomited the caviar onto the tightly woven oriental carpet. B---hes" (Source).