I had dinner with my sponsor at his place last night, and afterwards he pulled out a little blue box and was like, “Lozenge? They’re spicy.” I was like, “Sure,” took (what I assumed was) a mint and popped it in my mouth, enjoying the immediate, pleasant tingle associated with fresh breath.
So we were chatting away about not drinking or whatever, and I was absentmindedly crunching on the mint while we did so, and after awhile the tingle intensified from “hint of clove” to “hint of chemical burn.”
“Wow,” I said. “You were right. This is… really spicy.”
“Just tuck it up in your cheek and let it dissolve,” he said. “But as I was…. wait. Did you chew it?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Was I not supposed to?”
The look of horror on his face suggested that no, I was in fact not supposed to chew it.
“What are these?” I asked, grabbing the box and reading the label. “Seriously? You dosed me with Nicorette?”
“How did you not know it was Nicorette? I told you it was a lozenge.”
“I thought it was a pastille,” I yelled. “I thought you were being fancy. Okay, my mouth is legitimately on fire.”
“You need water.”
I reached for the fridge.
“Not cold water. Cold water will make it worse.”
So I grabbed water out of his pantry instead, and when I turned around he was right behind me with a glass, because even if one’s gums are spontaneously combusting, chugging straight from a bottle is unforgivably gauche.
Anyway, the moral of the story is this: If you think you have a problem with alcohol, you should definitely get into recovery, because sometimes your sponsor will accidentally give you drugs.
The End.
Keep coming back.
I’ve learned this lesson the hard way too. Never take more than one tiny flake of Sen Sen. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.
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I’m never been happier to not like mints in my life. That sounds like a miserable time.
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