A few days ago I bought some small peppers for filling in a large stuffed pepper, without making note of what sort of pepper they are. I can handle really really spicy stuff, never met a pepper I couldn’t handle, and didn’t expect to find one lying around in the organic aisle at Ralphs.
Two days ago I was cutting them up in the breakroom here at work, and licked my finger. Instantly my lips felt rubbed raw. A coworker raved about my lipstick and I had to break it to here that I’m not wearing any. I tenatively tried a nibble of the stuffed pepper and found that I had stuffed it with brimstone and misery and the almighty wrath of our vengeful God. Waves of pain radiated from my face that could only be tempered by lining my mouth with graham cracker. Over the course of the afternoon, I discovered that the pepper juice apparentally doesn’t wash off. My hands were tingling, and I learned the hard way that touching my eye was a very, very, very bad idea.
Two days later, everything I touch is spicier than usual, my hands have to be bathed in lotion, and I can’t touch my eyes without tearing up. It’s like I have a plague.
(Note to self, don’t masterbate.)