Brazil, Ilha Grande. An island located just a few hours off the coast of Rio De Janeiro. I was just a wee lad, on a supposed vacation with my family. What we didn't know is that we got the crappy part of the island. No electricity in our hut, poor sleeping conditions, fungus growing on the walls and leaky roofs. The only way I survived two weeks was because of the exotic drink known as Guarana. Oh how amazing it was/is, for the most part only available in south america/anywhere in the world, l2import nub. Also, I was like 9, not like I could leave the island anyway. I was thousands of miles from my beloved game consoles and TV at home...
Either way, one day the family headed off to one of Ilha Grande's only notable attractions: A large ass beach. Not only was it a large ass beach, there were large asses at the beach. But this is irrelevant, as remember, I was only 9. Girls were still cootie filled monsters, and I certainly didn't care if they had bigger asses. Though I doubt women would try to make themselves look attractive to a pale 9 year old Norwegian boy anyway. Hm. This is irrelevant, back to the story.
It had been a long day at the beach, and as I had refused to put any sun protection of any sort whatsoever on, I had gotten several severe sunburns and was like "FUCK U MOM Y U NO GIVE ME SUN PROTECTIONWTFAAAHHH". Also, I had not eaten the whole day.
But by the end of the day, we got to a small café-ish kinda thingy outside of the beach, the point is, they had fries. I fucking love fries. And I did back then too. So my father was nice and just kind of thought "fuck it, french fries dinner it is."
Several minutes later, we had been joined by my cousin, Eric (approx. 18 years old). Eric didn't speak English or Norwegian, and I didn't speak portugese, so there were sure to be misunderstandings.
Now, before I inform you of what happened in the end, when my juicy beautiful fries arrived, you have to understand one simple thing.
I fucking HATE ketchup.
Yes. YES. If I could remove one thing from existence, what would it be? War? NO. FUCKING KETCHUP. Images of tomatoes haunted me when I was a child, causing me to drop out of school due to night terror. Now that we have this clarified, let's move on.
It was in my sight. I could see the waiter bringing over a sizable bowl of fries to our table. My eyes watered up. Truly, this was the meaning of life. My father, however, said that as I probably wasn't gonna be able to eat all that myself (saying "challenge accepted" didn't help either), I'd have to share with Eric.
This is where it all goes to slow motion. Looking at Eric, I saw his lively brazilian eyes switch over to a very red bottle of thick liquid matter standing at the center of the table. I recognized what the bottle contained, and I shivered at the prospect... Surely... no... it could not be... If only Eric spoke Norwegian, I would of, using my most intimidating 9 year old voice, told him to get his hands away from the fucking ketchup bottle, or I would slit his throat with a french fry and have him choke on SALT. YES. SALT.
My father was busy talking to somebody... I dunno, he was probably chatting up the natives. Anyway, Eric grabbed the ketchup bottle, opened it and...
Eric turned to me and said something in portugese. I had no fucking idea what it meant, of course (I think he was trolling me), but whatever it was I should of responded with "NO YOU FUCKWIT GET AWAY FROM MY FRIES" because what proceeded to occur traumatized me forever more.
So there I sat. With red, goopy, disgusting fries. My day ruined, my week ruined, my vacation ruined, my life? Ruined.
There is no TL;DR summary to express the pain I have put out on display in this blog.
If I truly cared, I could proof read this and make it all grammatically correct and stuff. Haha! No thanks, I'll save that for my creepy stalker letter- Ehm, my creepy... eh... whatever.
I hope everybody who reads this can reflect on the pain I must of felt.
Thank you. <(*.*<) (>*.*)>
<(*.*)> v(*.*)v ^(*.*)^
edit: my half brazilian-up bringing eludes me! It's portugese not Brazilian (O_o) fixed