John said I’d like it. Even Evan, who I’d trust with my life, said I’d like it… but I didn’t. Everyone on TV seems to like it and those people online seems to think it’s just fantastic. But I didn’t.
I read advice that said “Start slow, take it mild, don’t rush it… you’ll soon get the taste for it.” But I didn’t.
One blog I looked at said that for his first time he wanted it to be the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. He thought that was the only way to rid himself of his own fears about trying it.
I couldn’t find anything on the net that was negative… apparently, everyone in the world loves it… so why didn’t I?
Was it the way I was brought up?
We were never that adventurous in our household and everything sort of stuck to a pattern. Same thing week in, week out. Nothing changed.
My friends had marvelled at me when I’d told them that I’d never tried it. Michael had insisted there and then that he should be the one to introduce me to its delights but I had to tell him I just wasn’t ready. He scoffed a bit and the nodding heads of my mates told me I was indeed the only one who’d never tried it.
After this ‘declaration’ of mine it began to be the only topic of conversation. “When would I eventually give it a try?” My friends were adamant that they wanted to help me, hell they were lining up to introduce me to its pleasures. In fact, they all wanted to be there… suggesting that we do it as a group. My mind boggled. I don’t think they realised what they were asking me to do but I was encouraged that not one of my friends thought it was a bad idea; every one of them deciding that they should be there to see me through this ‘ordeal’ as I called it. You know ‘One for all and all for one’ type of thing.
So, after three weeks of constant badgering I agreed.
My five mates, Michael, John, Biggie, Tom and Evan all agreeing a time and a place when I should try the very thing I’d been avoiding most of my life. I’d told them that I didn’t like the smell but they just laughed and said it was the thing that got their juices flowing in the first place. Biggie said that it was the raw smell that brought him out in a sweat in anticipation and told us about one of the hottest sessions he’d ever had. The others agreed and added comments about their own hot sessions but I wasn’t too sure. However, I had now agreed, I had my best mates around me and in truth, if I was going to do it, there was no one I’d rather have to introduce me to the experience. I loved and trusted them all.
The day and time arrived. We bowled up at the appointed venue; an unassuming place, in a back street, the interior lit by candles that they said only added to the atmosphere. Michael said he’d availed himself many times of what they had to offer, the last time, six weeks ago had been his hottest experience ever… and again, whether it was the smell or just the fearful anticipation, I felt a little nauseous.
The lads knew what they were doing so chatted to the staff making all the arrangements and before I knew it I was experiencing the very thing I’d avoided for my full 18 years of life. Nervously I looked around the group at the beaming faces and excited looks of anticipation made me jump straight in.
Uuurgh. What were they trying to do to me? I tried to take it slow but it didn’t help. From the very off I wasn’t happy and wished I’d never approved of this terrible ordeal. Within moments the sweaty, smiling faces that surrounded me were encouraging me to take that final leap; to join in with something that I could do regularly with my mates and not have to think about it.
Against my better judgement, and egged on by my friends I grinned and bore it, but I didn’t like it. My friends were whooping in delight, saying how much they were enjoying it. How hot it was. I struggled with it but stayed until the end although by then I was sweating, bilious and had decided that I wasn’t going to try it again… not even with my best friends.
I hadn’t enjoyed my first curry, and I didn’t think I ever would.