Entry #3, Tastebuds in Turmoil

In the world of culinary experiences, there are moments of pure delight, where flavors dance harmoniously on the palate, and there are those encounters that leave one questioning the very essence of taste itself. There was one instance, that left me vulnerable and in peril, and it started with the consumption of a particular spicy confection.

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Earlier today, I had just finished enjoying my left over pizza. My breath had a lingering aroma of onions and garlic, and washing the taste down with black coffee had little effect. My wife reached into her pocket; the sound of cellophane turning over her in her deep denim abyss reached my ears, and I shuttered. "Try this." She said, smiling through her teeth, as she opened her hand to reveal a site I had not anticipated. In the palm of her hand laid a smooth and glossy disk, overlayed with a red and white spiral, neatly wrapped in plastic, presumably to preserve its freshness. I willingly took it; I trust this woman with my life. After unwrapping its thin and clear packaging, I couldn't help but stare into its deep and hypnotizing pattern. Her voice washed over my soul, with each phrase fading farther and fainter, "This should help."

I lifted my hand to my mouth, revealing a foul smelling tongue, and placed the hard, promising remedy gently upon my anxious taste buds. At first it was subtle, sweet, and enticing. I was beginning remember how it felt to be fresh again. But as my mouth started salivating and the lozenge began to dissolve, it released an overpowering onslaught of menthol that engulfed my senses in a frosty haze. What was meant to be a gentle kiss of coolness, transformed into a powerful arctic blast. The sensation was like plunging headfirst into an icy lake in the middle of a blizzard. In a panic I looked up, and reconsidered my marriage. "What have you done to me?" I asked, to the woman I once trusted -- the woman who claimed to love me.

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Indeed I had forgotten about my previous concern, but this was not the aid I had foreseen, and my only hope was for this to end. Perhaps the most unnerving aspect of this entire experience was the realization that I was powerless to escape its clutch. I desperately reached for a glass of water in an attempt to dilute its relentless chill. Each sip only helped to spread its frigid and bitter grasp, working against me in every imaginable way. Resistance was futile.

Time itself seemed frozen. Seconds, felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours. But eventually my brain did thaw, and the pain in my mouth subsided. I was left better off, but not without struggle. A cleanse is rarely uncomplicated, but worth enduring. The feeling of relief and sense of accomplishment was enough for me to forgive the woman standing across from me. But I will be exercising caution the next time I see her reach into her pocket.