In a lot of ways, I’ve got a gambler’s personality. I’m willing to try just about anything once, and I naturally tend towards the new and exciting; any escape from the remotest possiblity of routine. It makes life fresh and enjoyable, even when these spontaneous decisions turn out to be poor ones.
This, my friends, is a story of one such poor decision.
Despite the fact that eating cephalopods makes me feel a little guilty (it’s becoming more and more clear how intelligent and clever they are; especially octopuses), I do have a weakness for squid. On a more common note, I also have a weakness for jerky. I’ve taken the opportunity to try jerky made of beef, venison, alligator, goat, emu, and rabbit.
Now, previous to this story, I have tried squid jerky before. But it was the shredded kind, like you see below.
This is in fact delicious, and I highly recommend it, despite it being pricey (even for jerky) for a regular snacking regimen. But one day, at my local Oriental specialty store where I was buying a jar of kimchi (another preferred snack of mine), I spotted this monstrosity:
Like I previously established, I have a bit of a gambler in me. I know when to hold em, when to fold em, and I knew right then that my life would not be complete until I had tried this squid made of jerky.
So I brought the Cthuloid-jerky home, opened the vacu-seal plastic, and unleashed an eldritch stench that I’m surprised was not accompanied by a luminous green cloud. I was always under the impression that the jerky process was designed to preserve the meat. To put it another way, jerky should not smell dead, at least in my world. One whiff of this thing, however, and I was fully aware that in my hands I held a dead animal. A dead sea creature, long removed from it’s habitat, and stinking the hell out of my kitchen.
Still, it was here, and I was here. No way to get around it. I had to take a bite.
It was still moist. Not good moist, like handmade jerky bought at a festival that melts in your mouth. Moist and rubbery, like something picked out of the dirt you’d be dared to eat by someone that obviously hated you.
It was unfair, I thought to myself. Noone should be allowed to package such a truly horrible, slimy, stinky thing into plastic and send it overseas for purchased consumption. I took another bite, tears welling up in my eyes, and thought to myself these people should be in jail.
Three bites in, and I was on the verge of existential collapse. The fact that this thing existed, and people paid good money for it, was too much to bear. This thing doesn’t belong anywhere but Fear Factor.
I took one more bite before my will completely gave out. I bundled the whole thing in duct tape and threw it in the dumpster. I couldn’t even stand having the thing in my trash. I even considered setting fire to the dumpster, but changed my mind at the last minute.