Food Memory

My food memory is with Durian Candy.  My love/hate relationship for the candy started like any other white day would.  That is, until I walked into Mr. Yeiser’s room.  I was quite curious what a mysterious brown powder with chunks was in a plastic container.  I asked Mr. Yeiser and Mr. May, and their only answer was to smell it.  This marks one of the stupidest decisions I’ve made.  I actually smelled it.  The smell can only be described as eating pig manure and a gym sock garnished with turpentine.  I promise, it really is that bad.  As any teenager would, I wanted my friends to experience the death-in-a-can.  This is where my love for the candy started.  Their initial reactions were some of the funniest I’ve ever seen.  Then came the time where we were to taste it.  Imagine the smell, and then double the nastiness.  This is only because if you devour a piece of this candy, you’ll be burping it up for a few hours.  I’m not kidding.  I was so astounded by the vile taste that Alex and I decided to drive to an Asian market in Evansville just to procure a few bags of the stuff.  The trip itself is another story, although it adds to the memory.  Long story short, we arrived at the Asian market and saw raw fish heads and raw beef in ice along with some of the strangest foods and fruits we’ve ever laid eyes on.  On the way back, we also drove about 30 miles too far one way and had to turn around and come back.  Ever since, we’ve been trying to get people to try the candy with varying degrees of success.  The reactions so far have easily outweighed the time we spent and the gas we burned.  In fact, only one person has ever liked the candy, which was Dallas.  She’s just crazy.