A St. Patrick’s Day Story

Know what I can’t stand? Corned beef. You know, the Go-Fucking-To lucky meal of the holiday. Besides haggis. Tried it once. Corned beef, not haggis. You’ll never get me to try haggis. I sometimes like to say, “I’ll try anything once!” But no. As my wife is fond of saying, “That’s the exception that proves the rule.” And if you know my wife, she never says that. In fact, she hates when I say it.
For those that know me and my taste for food, I divide what I eat into 3 categories. But the more I think about it, let’s make that 4. Sorry Bill. I have fed you a lie for far too long.
• I love it (holy shit that’s good! I could eat this every day! I’m looking at you, pizza and tacos!)
• That didn’t make me gag (as it implies, I didn’t gag. I wouldn’t say I dislike it. I can eat it, but I won’t go out of my way to have it again.)
• That made me gag (yeah – no. I hate gagging. I will not be trying this again unless I may have had a bad batch in which case I’ll try another brand or another restaurant’s version just to be sure. As I learned with Menudo after trying 5 different restaurants – not for me. I gagged 5 times in sequentially more violent ways. After 5 times I threw up in my mouth a little and it tasted the same.)
• I’ll never try that shit. (Nope. Not while I’m alive and have free will.)
I’m known for making food dishes and bringing them to work. My most requested food is my chili. So much so that my colleagues chipped in and bought me a bigger crock pot just so I didn’t have a reason to bring in no less than 4 quarts of the stuff. Which brings me to subject story.
One day, Debbie, along with several of her workers, beg me to make some corned beef for our office’s St. Paddy’s Day celebration. After much arguing, I reluctantly agreed. I did my research. I put together a big corned beef meal. Set it up in the crock pot for overnight slow cooking. I woke up many times during the night wondering what the fuck that urine smell was permeating my house. I gagged a few times just from the smell. I made a solemn vow to myself that I would never make that again. My house stunk for a couple days.
They all loved it, so I guess it was a hit. But no. I will never make that shit again. After 3 years they gave up on ever asking me to make corned beef.