Gabriel vs. the Ghost Peppers

Everyone has a mental list of stupid decisions they’ve made over the course of their life.  Dating that chick with the psycho ex-boyfriend, lending money to your serially unemployed friend and other assorted bonehead moves.  This week I added to my own list of dumb shit I’ve done.

For those of you that don’t know me, I’m a bit of a chili head.  I love to munch on spicy food or try out new hot sauces.  Sometimes I’ve been known to go too far and suffer the consequences.  This is one of those times.

Stupid Human Tricks

At my client in Atlanta there are a couple of guys who are also chili heads like me and a couple who claim to be.  My partner in crime (a fellow consultant) and I decided to separate the men from the boys by having a pepper eating contest.  This would be strictly big league, no jalapenos or pepperoncini or weak ass peppers.  Our 1st round was homegrown Thai peppers from the garden of an Asian student intern.  These puppies were some of the biggest Thai peppers I’d ever seen.

Here’s a handy chart to help you understand where Thai peppers (aka Bird’s Eye Chili) sit in the hierarchy of hotness.

Most of the self proclaimed chili heads made it through the initial round.  Some had a single bite before calling it quits while others chewed through those suckers with a smile on their face.  With Round 1 behind us we tried to figure out what the next level would be.  A normal (or smart) person would have gone up one level and used Habaneros or Scotch Bonnets.  Our stupid asses decided to shoot all the way up to Ghost Peppers (aka Bhut Jolokia Chili).

Charging Hell with a Squirt Gun

I thought I was prepared for the Ghost Pepper.  I had done my fair share of Habaneros and Scotch Bonnets.  Sriracha sauce was like ketchup to me these days.  What’s another 700 thousand more Scoville heat units to a guy like me?  Refer to the subtitle of this section to understand how well prepared I was.

I was the 2nd guy to undertake the challenge .  The 1st made it through with only a reddening of the face and a quiet contemplative look.  All the others flapped their gums, but refused to pull the trigger.  We all gathered in one of the offices to witness my attempt.  The dried Ghost Pepper had been rehydrating in a cup of water for over 10 minutes (as per the instructions on the bag).  I sat down in front of the monster with a 16oz bottle of chocolate Nesquik as my safety net and a foolish sense of invulnerability.

I gingerly picked the pepper up by its long stem, and under the gaze of my coworkers, took a bite of the tip.  Two things hit me at the same time, the unique yet intriguing flavor of the Ghost Pepper and a squirt of water from inside the pepper that ran down my chin.  The burning in my mouth and chin started instantaneously at a level which most other hot peppers peak at.  I slowly chewed while contemplating how to attack this fiendish plant.  The heat continued to build signifying a worrying trajectory.  I tipped the pepper downward letting the other hidden water trickle back into the cup.  Now I was ready for bite number two.

As I bit into the pepper a very unfortunate thing happened, the stem broke off.  Now with the pepper held only by my lips (which were already sizzling from the heat) I had a dilemma on my hands.  I could hold the pepper with my fingers (something I was trying very hard to avoid) or I could take the whole thing into my mouth and go for gold.  I’ll give you one guess as to which path I took.

I methodically chewed into the remaining Ghost Pepper hoping my slow pace would somehow temper the rising heat.  Instead the super saturated pepper unloaded its nuclear payload into the back of my throat.  Have you ever had your uvula burn in excruciating pain?  It’s not something I would recommend.

Distracted by the white hot pain I failed to notice that I had started tearing up.  When the tears rolled down my cheeks it was one of my coworkers who pointed it out.  My face was flush red with tears streaming down my cheeks, but I soldiered on and finished eaten the cursed pepper.

I tried to described the molten lava that was destroying my mouth as best I could with a voice hoarse from the pepper eating away at my throat tissues.  One of the guys went white and backed away a couple of inches.  Another laughed nervously.  There’s nothing better than being an example of sheer stupidity for others to learn from.

A couple of minutes after I swallowed the Ghost Pepper the heat hit a level that was almost musical in its pain.  I ripped the cap off of the chocolate Nesquik and chugged that sucker down in 5 seconds flat.  The drink provided relief for roughly… 5 seconds.  The fire surged back with a mighty roar.  At this point I scrambled to the nearest vending machine and bought a bottle of ice cold water.  Chug, chug, chug… gone in 5 seconds.  Fire returned in 3.

I got another bottle of water and tried to ration it out while pacing the hallways.  I kept to the less trafficked sections of the office because, honestly, who wants to see a red faced, crying consultant wandering around their hallways?  The tears finally dried up only to be replaced by my ears being clogged like I was in an airplane.  That was a new experience on the pepper eating front.  Didn’t know that could even be a side effect.  I paced for a while, returned to the chili heads to continue describing the inferno, and then paced some more.  It took a full half hour for the heat to reach manageable levels and it didn’t disappear at that point only lower itself to Habanero degrees of intensity.

I think my display of unbridled pain put a kibosh on the entire pepper eating contest.  I did cement my spot in the upper echelon of chili heads for having gone through with the experience and NOT thrown up, but that has now become my own personal definition of a “hollow victory.”  The rest of the work day finished without incident.  Some of the “talkers” said they’d try next week.  I told them I’d be there with bells on to watch.  They then mumbled to themselves and walked away.

The 2nd Wave

Little did I know, the Ghost Pepper was not done kicking my ass.  Later that evening, when I thought I was safe in my hotel room, the chili hit phase two of destroy Gabriel’s stomach lining.  The best I can guess is that my stomach acids finally ate through the pepper’s seeds.  It felt like a mace grenade exploded in the pit of my belly.  Just try to imagine the heat my mouth experienced earlier and move the sensation directly into my stomach.  I was instantly doubled over.  My kidneys even started to burn as they processed the fire water this pepper was creating.  Within seconds my entire body was covered in a cold sweat.  It was some of the gnarliest pain I’d ever experienced.  Twice as bad as eating the pepper itself.

Chugging cold water didn’t help.  Popping antacids didn’t help.  Jamming food down my throat didn’t help.  In the end I sat my ass down, focused on my breathing and friggin’ meditated just to make it through the ordeal.  I now thoroughly understand how Yogi’s use pain to focus themselves into trance like states.  I won’t say I found enlightenment, but I did see stars for quite a while.

I’m sharing this little moment of inane idiocy with you all as a cautionary tale and as a permanent reminder for myself.  Don’t do stupid shit and you won’t pay the consequences.  There’s a reason why “Hey y’all watch this!” are famous last words.

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Tagged as: Chili Peppers, Dumb, Ghost Peppers, Hellfire, Pain, Stupidity