I’m bugging out!
I went to a favorite standby bar with my boss last night for a margarita. We ordered what we always order;
- Rocks/Salt Marg’s
- Steak Quesadilla with Corn Tortillas
Our food arrived and I began munching. We were talking about all things serious and silly and I was enjoying myself. Somewhere near the end of my third slice of quesadilla my brain recognized the fact that this was waaaaay to flaky to be a corn tortilla.
I looked at it. Closely.
By boss stopped talking and said “Is everything ok?”
I stared at the tiny little flakes of dough in my hand.
“Nope.” I said calmly “This is a flour tortilla. Please excuse me for a moment.”
I went into the bar bathroom and made myself throw up everything I could. Again and again I stuck my finger down my throat and forced myself to get rid of as much of the gluten filled tortilla as possible.
When I got back to the table my boss informed me the restaurant had taken my info, offered to pay any medical bills, and comped our meal. There were bringing out new, actually GF quesadillas for us. Our waitress was mortified and if she could have crawled under the floor boards right then I am sure she would have.
I sat and waited to see what would happen. Within 45 minutes my boss told me I didn’t look so good. I didn’t feel so good either. My head had started to pound, the lights had auras and star points making all the world seem burning bright, the sounds in the bar were clamouring ever louder, streaming together into an impossible flurry of sound around my head. I asked my boss to drive me home, I couldn’t risk driving with such large auras. He did.
I fell asleep within an hour. At about 8:30 and slept until about 8:30. When I woke up I was swollen all over, my head was killing me, and I was pale as death. I took a Benadryl and the swelling went down a little.
I am not angry at the restaurant. I know they have a good system in place because I eat there often. Also, they did all they could to fix the mistake. They can’t, I will be sick on some level for days until this ends, but they tried, immediately, to make reparations.
What angers me is that after five years of avoiding gluten at all costs I was poisoned by a quesadilla. If I had known I was going to be poisoned, I would have gotten a long john, or tried a Voodoo Doughnut just once. Instead, the days of swollen aching and itching are the result of a damned flour tortilla.