A fruit you dislike and why.
I almost said that there aren’t any until I remembered grapefruit. To be fair it’s not the fruit’s fault. There was an incident.
I was in college and had stayed up most of the night cramming for an Organic Chemistry exam. After snatching about two hours of fitful sleep there wasn’t time spend in the dining hall, so I grabbed a grapefruit and took off for the exam.
The molar mass of Lithium Hydrogen Phosphate is 109.8613 g/mol. Check. Nibble a slice. Draw the structural formula of an aliphatic compound. Panic. Scribble, scribble. Munch another slice. And so it went, chemical synthesis, nomenclature, and reactivities of organic molecules accompanied by a side order of a particularly sour citrus fruit.
Let’s call a spade a spade, OChem is a tough class and I probably wasn’t as prepared as I should have been. I was in full-on student panic mode, stressed, over tired, and with nothing in my tummy but a highly acidic grapefruit.
I started to sweat. Ten more questions. Then my stomach clenched. Five more questions. I wasn’t going to make it. The prospect of puking my guts out in front of 200 of my peers (including a tall, blonde, sumptuous, Adonis of a fraternity brother that I had an unrequited, all consuming crush on) was tantamount to social suicide. I scrawled something nonsensical for the last answer and fled. I barely made it to the women’s room.
Needless to say, I’ve never been able to eat grapefruit since then. The sad thing is, I like the flavor. Unfortunately, the association is ingrained; one taste still makes me squirm. Stupid brain.