Taste sensation

I admit, I'm somewhat of a hippie under cover. I cruise the aisles of the health food store. I worry about green issues and insist the hubby leave his grass clippings lie. I've been known to buy local fruits, veggies and honey. I've started and abandoned several gardens and I've thought seriously about composting.

But that's where it ends. I still like high-heels with leather uppers and I insist on chemically treating my hair and my face in a desperate attempt to fight advancing age -- or at least trick unsuspecting younger men into thinking I too am unsuspecting and young. I am neither.

So this week, it's not suprising to find me visiting the local health food in search of more supplements to bolster my immune system.

Food in the health food store is not good. Let's just get that on the table now. It smells -- and often tastes -- much the same as rabbit food. And yes, I've tasted those weird grass pellets fed to rabbits. I know of which I surmise. They are selling grass shaped like energy bars.

But for some reason, I'm an idiot. There was a juice. I like juice but I am very particular. No weird sugars or high fructose corn syrup allowed. Of course, this was all natural, filling, cleansing, invigorating and tastes like ambrosia. Well, I had to try a sample.

If you were to mix broccoli juice, a cauliflower fart and urine with the faint tinge of asparagus, you might, might have an idea of what this shit tasted like.

And now it was in my mouth.

I was faced with the age-old dilemma that has plagued women since the beginning of time -- Spit or Swallow.

I opted to hold with precedent and gagged it down. What I couldn't control was the faces and noises I made afterward. Hacking, gagging, blah, blah, blah with the tongue. It wasn't pretty.

After I choked and sputtered for a while, my eyes streaming with the effort to control the heaving. I look over to see the ball of fire staring me down. I smile and say most sweetly, "Son, do you want to try a drink?"

His eyes widened a bit.

I held out the small plastic cup, sloshing the contents temptingly.

He walked over and tipped the rim toward his nose, took a big sniff.

"No way, man. It smells like Toby barf up."

I took a big whiff. Damn, he was right. If I had bothered to smell it before I drank it, I would have never tried it either.

"Sure you don't want to try it anyway?"

"Nope. I'm going to go stand by the car."

Chicken shit.