They are dismal shades of brown and off whites, sometimes appearing as if just pulled from a pot of soil. They are fairly odorless in their natural environment, but repulsively pungent once cooked. The smell triggers a multitude of reactions within me. A wave of heat rushes over me and I begin to get lightheaded. My mouth begins to fill with saliva similar to when my stomach feels sour and a bitter metallic taste permeates against my taste buds. Frantically, I begin to search for the origination of that horrendous odor.
My eyes scan the room in search; I know it is there somewhere taunting me. Quickly I covertly glance at the meal in front of the person closest to me. Is it there? There is a beautiful cuisine of steamed spring vegetables and a delightful aroma of butter and garlic in the air. Next to it, there is a fillet of white fish garnished in bright tart lemon slices. Although I do not like the smell of fish, this is not the culprit; but it is near.
Anxiety overcomes me as I look down at the plate before me. I tell myself, “There is no way that is coming from my food”. Goosebumps begin to form and a feeling of dizziness overwhelms me. My thoughts begin to race back to the ingredients on the menu. I am sure that I would have caught them if there were listed and again there is a waft of the overpowering scent. I take my fork and start to sift through the food that was so neatly organized on my plate. Alas! My fears have been confirmed. There it is; mocking me in its slimy existence. I muster all that I have to conceal the fungus once more and place the dish as far out of my reach as possible.
“Pardon me, Waitress”, I call out with a waiver in my voice. She responds promptly to my beckoning cry. Fighting back the urge to faint or worse and with barely a breath left within my lungs, I manage to pull the words together and say “I think there are mushrooms in this food”.
P.S. Yes, I do actually have a fear of mushrooms!
My eyes scan the room in search; I know it is there somewhere taunting me. Quickly I covertly glance at the meal in front of the person closest to me. Is it there? There is a beautiful cuisine of steamed spring vegetables and a delightful aroma of butter and garlic in the air. Next to it, there is a fillet of white fish garnished in bright tart lemon slices. Although I do not like the smell of fish, this is not the culprit; but it is near.
Anxiety overcomes me as I look down at the plate before me. I tell myself, “There is no way that is coming from my food”. Goosebumps begin to form and a feeling of dizziness overwhelms me. My thoughts begin to race back to the ingredients on the menu. I am sure that I would have caught them if there were listed and again there is a waft of the overpowering scent. I take my fork and start to sift through the food that was so neatly organized on my plate. Alas! My fears have been confirmed. There it is; mocking me in its slimy existence. I muster all that I have to conceal the fungus once more and place the dish as far out of my reach as possible.
“Pardon me, Waitress”, I call out with a waiver in my voice. She responds promptly to my beckoning cry. Fighting back the urge to faint or worse and with barely a breath left within my lungs, I manage to pull the words together and say “I think there are mushrooms in this food”.
P.S. Yes, I do actually have a fear of mushrooms!
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