Our P.E. program at school is pretty weird. It's a highschool, but we have no gym, so we all pay twenty bucks to go to a professional gym down the street. This is a pretty sweet deal, considering it costs twenty-five to test the gym out for a day to anyone else. The equipment is fabulous and the gym extensive. All in all, it beats trying to memorize the rules to volleyball (can you believe they quiz us on those at normal schools?).
I'm walking back with a friend of mine, Nick, and we've lagged a bit behind. We're not really sweating it. The school runs on block time, meaning each period is about an hour and a half. We've got a good twenty minutes to roll into class.
So, we stop into a gas station, both of us having skipped breakfast in order to get to school on time. Nick goes for a humongous bag of chips, while I go for the typical baked good (it IS supposed to be my breakfast). I get a packaged thing of muffins, two blueberry muffins of pure sweet and goodness, wrapped up tight in plastic and sealed in a factory somewhere.
We buy our goods and wander out.
About halfway back to school (far enough that I can't go back if I want to be to class on time), I rip into my muffins and stuff one into my mouth, then grimace. Okay, I haven't tried this brand yet, and obviously I've made a bad choice. I understand that sometimes packaged stuff like that tastes all chemical-y and plastic-y.
"Hey, Nick," I say, still chewing my food, trying to figure out what that taste is. I know it; I just can't place it. I hold out the muffins to him. "Try a piece of this, it tastes funny."
Nick grabs a portion of the top and puts it in his mouth at the exact same time I notice mold growing on it. I spit the chewed wad of muffin out at the speed of light and practically scream, "OH MY GOD, NICK, SPIT IT OUT!"
He'd just put it in, so I don't think he got a good taste, but he spit it out right away, then looked at me in confusion. THEN the leftovers of taste hit him, and he made a face that I would have found hilarious in any other situation.
"Look," I mumble, feeling sick to my stomach. "Ugh, mold. I ALREADY SWALLOWED HALF OF THAT. UGHHH."
~end storytime, begin rant~
Evidently, I'm a naive little brat to think that pre-sealed packaged muffins couldn't go bad, but honestly, HOW LONG HAVE THOSE BEEN SITTING THERE?! Years?! Don't they trade out their FOOD?! I mean, there was only two of that type of muffin. I guess I assumed that meant that people were buying them or something, and new ones were continually being put out.
I chucked the muffins into a garbage can because I felt sick looking at them. I felt the taste all through the day, and (here's where it gets gross, avert your eyes) it upset my stomach so that I would burp and keep tasting it every time I found SOMEthing to wash the taste away. Basically, I couldn't get rid of it. All. Day.
It was awful. -_- I hate that stupid gas station. I know for a damn fact that the 7-Elevens change their stupid food so it doesn't make their customers sick, so that's the only place I go to, now. When I'm not hitting a grocery store, that is.
Stupid Chevron/whatever-gas-station (okay, I can't remember, but I do know it's yellow) food mart. I hate you.