I don't eat raisins. I haven't had a raisin since I was five.
I shit you not.
I gag at the sight of raisins.
This one time, I went to Soup Plantation with a group of friends. This one girl, a friend of a friend, was in front of me while we were fetching our salads. Well this girl loves raisins. You know how I know? She told me. She loved them so much, she literally said, "Oh my god, raisins. I love raisins!"
I had just completed the perfect combination of what I call a salad; equally balanced portions of lettuce, dressing, and an abundant portion of other goods. I remember thinking to myself "Man, this is the perfect salad."
Then she pulled the most fucked up move. She scooped out a huge portion of raisins and sprinkled it on my salad. "This is going to taste so good."
I was speechless.
That fucking cunt.
I think I threw up a little in my mouth.
This is why I haven't had a raisin since I was five:
When I was five, my little sister, Kim, and I were eating our little snack size box of raisins on our front porch. She was a little sick at the time with a stuffy nose and all. I remember us playing and eating our raisins and then out of nowhere, I have no idea why, we started throwing raisins at each other.
It started out as innocent fun. Then it got a little violent.
The image that really stuck was when a raisin landed on my little sister's upper lip, right underneath her nose. It was covered in snot. It reminded me of something else. I won't get into detail.
The part that really haunts me 'til this day was when she licked it off with her tongue and ate it. Appalling is the perfect word for that situation. She was only two but still…I can't help myself.
Nastique.
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