Bubbalou's Bodacious Barbeque

I know I have posted before regarding Bubbalou's Bodacious Barbeque, but I have to tell you about my experience today. I had to run to Orlando to do some banking and decided to call my brother and see if he could do some lunch. He said he was available and suggested we go to Bubbalou's. If you read this blog often enough, you know I was down like Charlie Brown for that. When I get there my brother is waiting and he immediately tells me, "We are going to have to sit outside." I ask him why, since it seems there are tables available inside and he tells me, "If you sit inside your clothes are going to smell like smoke." Now I'll take this moment to tell you that my brother is my younger brother. I know he has to go back to work, but I am unemployed with no prospects and nowhere to be. I choose to wear the cologne of hickory smoke like a badge of honor. You get all smoked up at Bubbalou's for lunch and people smell you later, they think you are the man! Needless to say, we sit inside.

At this point, I should tell you that one of two things need to happen in my life. Either (A), I stop watching Man vs. Food, or (B) I stop trying to match challenges I see Adam Richman doing on the show. I recently saw Adam do a wing challenge with sauce so hot, he could eat only two of the wings out of the ten presented. He was in serious pain. I have eaten hot stuff before and love it. However, I have never been in pain from a hot sauce before. With this in mind, I order a pulled pork basket with fries and beans. The pulled pork basket is a sandwich with the sides.

When you sit down at the table, they have the sauces right there ready for you. They have mild, sweet, hot and killer. The killer is really hot, but I have eaten that so much that it is like ketchup to me. The server brings my food and I look at him in the eye and say, "Can you bring me some psycho sauce please?" He looks at me with a quizzical look and says, "Psycho sauce, really? Sure!" He comes back and places it on the table. He looks at me and says, "Enjoy," with a funny smile on his face. I am laughing to myself as he doesn't know that I have had the psycho sauce before.

The first time I had the psycho sauce I will admit I was a little bit scared, so I went in with just a few drops placed strategically on my sandwich. This time I was like a gambler in Vegas holding a straight flush. I went all in! I coated that pork with psycho sauce to the point that it was dripping out of the sides. I put salt on my fries, pepper on my beans and was ready to go. I am so hungry, I cannot wait to dig in.

I grab a fried, eat a fork full of beans and then take my first bite of the sandwich. That first bite hit me in the face like Hacksaw Jim Duggan swinging a two by four. It completely took my breath away. I started coughing and my brother started laughing. He had warned me not to do it, but my pride was on the line. Dammit, I want to be like Adam Richman. I continue to eat my food and start sweating. I have been in this spot before, but I notice something strange. My head isn't sweating. Only my face. Usually, I have sweat pouring off the back of my neck and down my back, but not this time. What I do have is an inferno relegated mainly to my mouth. I am at the point where I cannot taste anything. My tongue at this point is just a chunk of meat in my mouth with no real purpose but to torture me. I go through my first large sweet tea like Grant went through Richmond. My brother says he'll go get more drinks, but is stopped by the server who says he will get them. Now I know I am in trouble as this guy can't possibly be moving fast enough. I want to scream out, "How long does it take a person to get a glass of tea?!?!?!" Finally, he comes back and I get after it. I drink about half of the drink and I am only about four bites into this sandwich. I now realize I am in big trouble.

If I have never said it before, Bubbalou's serves great fries and beans. However, I wouldn't really know this day as everything I put in my mouth now is like somebody is shoveling hot coals into my mouth. I want to eat the fries and the beans, but I cannot physically do so. I try to continue, but with about three quarters of my fries gone and half of the beans gone, I call it quits on the sides. I just want to see if I can finish this sandwich. At this point, I take matters into my own hands and go to the counter to get my own refill of tea. The guy fills it up and treats me like the bartenders at the Anheuser-Busch Hospitality Centers. He gives me my tea and tells me, "Have a nice day." That is the sign at A-B when they let you know you have reached the number of free beers you can receive for the day. I ask my brother if he thinks that is what is going down and he assures me I can get all the free refills I need. I feel a sense of relief as I know this recent 32 ounces is not going to get it done.

I look at my sandwich and figure I have about three regular bites left. But I am not in a regular frame of mind. I feel as if the entire world is against me and there is only one thing I can do to get this over with. I take the last three bites in one swell swoop and think it is over. At this point, I feel as if I could help Iran further their nuclear enrichment program. I am seriously on fire. My brother announces that he needs to get back to work, but I don't feel as if I can move from the table. I wipe my face with what has to be the one hundredth paper towel and start to leave. The server says to me as we are leaving, "You're the guy that wanted the psycho sauce right? How are you doing?" I tell him, "It blew me up, but I love it." If you don't like hot stuff, you can never understand what I am talking about. I am on an endorphin rush at that moment that you would not believe. It must be like what it feels like to summit on Mt. Everest.

Now I have to share with you what I experienced after leaving the restaurant:

* I get in the car and the heat moves from my mouth to my torso. My chest and stomach are now on fire. It is the strangest feeling I have ever had.

* I want to call Julynn to tell her what is going on, but my tongue is filling my mouth and I cannot talk.

* On the way home, I have to stop at two rest stops to wring the sweat out of my shirt.

* My hair has fallen out in a pattern I can only describe as a reverse Mohawk. I am hoping it will grow back before I have another job interview.

* Hair that used to grow in my ears has now fallen out, so I don't have to worry about that anymore.

* When I was a kid, I had the mumps real bad and lost the high pitch tone in my right ear. I am happy to say my hearing is now back. In the immortal words of Carl Spackler from Caddyshack, "I've got that going for me, which is nice."

* My blood pressure is now 1000 over 560.

* My resting heartbeat is that of a hummingbird. 1,400 bpm.

* I had a doctor's appointment and he told me I cannot have any more children. Seems I am the first documented case of vasectomy by capsacin.

* The interior of my car is black, but the driver's seat is now a burnt orange.

* I got a call today from the waste water treatment plant telling me they have to charge me $1,500 for the nuclear material I dumped down the toilet and the Haz-Met team that has to clean it up.

* Finally, Julynn says I have to repaint the walls in the master bathroom. Looks like I won't be watching football this weekend.

If you like really hot stuff, I encourage you to ask for the psycho sauce at Bubbalou's. However, go easy on it and don't say I didn't warn you.

Eat, drink and be merry!

Harry