pickles

food is not something i really enjoy. i hate more foods than i like. general groups of food i don't eat:
red meat
pasta
salads
most fruit
raw vegetables (with the exception of carrots with my dip)

it is fairly well known that there are some foods that gross me out so much that i don't even want to be around them. i can be around red meat or pasta, I can even make those foods, but some things make me cringe. pickles are the worst!!!!!!!!! i hate the smell of pickles, I hate the site of pickles, I hate the thought of pickles. next comes mustard. oh my gosh it's super nasty! i hate the sight of it and the smell. there is one food that i have already told the kids in the class i work in not to bring near me. oranges. they know NOT to bring an orange to me and ask me to peel it. I have explained to them that oranges disgust me and if they bring one to me to open i will just stare at them until they clue in. yuck yuck yuck. they stink, and they have weird white stringy stuff on them. finally i despise yogurt. it also has a strong smell. it settles into a watery level and the thick level. i hate watching people mix yogurt. ew, why would anyone want to eat it? opening kids yogurt packs is a difficult thing for me. i am always scared that when i pill the tin foil top off the container that it will splatter on my thumb. i don't want to smell like yogurt. i hate being in the class when it's snack or lunch time. all the smells make me want to vomit. it's pretty brutal.

i have a few pickle stories that have almost ruined my life. as a kid my brothers would chase me with pickles because they knew i couldn't stand it. of course it got a reaction out of me which is why they did it. my one brother would often eat pickle sandwiches. i hated those lunches. ew ew ew, i feel a little sick just thinking of it. my fear if pickles started at a young age and has only escalated since. the summer after i graduated i went to europe with my family and grandparents. one day we took a train from the north coast of Germany to Berlin. It was about a 2 hour ride. There were a bunch of cabins on the train and then a skinny hall connecting the cabins. When it came time for lunch we were all given a bagged lunch from the tour guide. Everyone seemed to dig in at the same time. All of a sudden my brothers began to laugh. I looked in my bag and saw a large tin container. Each one had a HUGE gurcken (pickle) inside. I began to panic. all of my family members opened their containers, took the little fork from the bag and shoved it into one end of the pickle and slowly pulled it out of their container. they cabin quickly filled with the smell of pickle. i went out into the hall as quick as possible but no matter where i went it smelt like pickle. everyone was thoroughly enjoying their gurcken. i ended up sticking my head out the window to escape the smell. and believe me when i say that that smell doesn't go away quickly. a year later i started working at ABC Restaurant as a cook. I did my best to avoid pickles. i didn't tell anyone about my fear because i was worried that i would then always be asked to make the food that required pickles. i had been there a few months before i had an encounter with pickles. it was the dinner rush and i was in coldpass. that meant that i made salads and desserts and did any running around that was needed when anything ran out. amidst the rush i was handed a metal bowl and asked to quickly fill it with sliced pickles. i briefly froze. i wasn't sure what to do. i wanted to hide the bowl and pretend that no one asked me but i knew that wouldn't be wise during the stressful dinner rush. so i ran into the fridge. i found the pail of pickles and took off the lid. thankfully the smell wasn't too strong due to how cold it was in the fridge. i sat there on the floor of the fridge trying to get up the nerve to pick up the pickles. i heard someone say "where's lael with the pickles?" i knew i needed to hurry up. i took a deep breath and stuck my arm into the bucket of pickle juice up to my elbow. i grabbed as many pickles as i could, dumped them into the bowl and ran them back out into the kitchen. i then proceeded to scrub my arm as many times as i could without delaying any orders. not a run night.