I am not the world's smartest person, nor do I say I am. For example, when it comes to food, my IQ level pretty much goes down to the single digits. I have eaten some pretty questionable stuff, and a lot of experiences that I refuse to list here because I can already feel you judging me (jerk).

Probably one of my top 5 stupidest moments took place in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.

Just a disclaimer before I start:

Puerto Vallarta is lovely, and don't let my stupidity hinder you from dipping your palate into diverse culinary delicacies! If bargaining is a hobby, and you're looking to be supplied with great, affordable food, definitely give this place a visit. Granted, not everything there is as cheap as other parts of Mexico, but I'm based in SF so everything is cheap compared to San Francisco.

Before heading out, there were a lot of warning advisories from seasoned veterans of PVT.

DO NOT drink the water
DO NOT eat at the Bubba Gump in the Puerto Vallarta Airport.
DO NOT accept sketchy massages from the rippled hunks wear very tiny speedos.

But no one ever fucking warned me about UberEats.

Ok maybe it was my choice of radioactive tostada's that gave me the runs, maybe it was from the homemade salsa that probably contained the infamous water I was told to stay clear of. Regardless of what gave me my ailment, it hurt like a bitch.

To try and explain it, think of a basic stomach ache.

Now scratch that thought and think of a hot searing knife stabbing at your stomach over and over and over again until you're curled fetal position on your Airbnb mattress, hoping that the sweet release of death will soon fall upon you.

However, I was not alone in this time of suffering. My dearest Kevin decided to join me in my misery, sending me toilet selfies with pain written all over his face. For me, the pain was internal, for him, it was when it exited his body.

We lied in pain together for the rest of those 24 hours, laughing hysterically at the evil repercussions of being too lazy to go outside and having the munchies in the middle of the night. Alas, sloth and gluttony took over, and we were punished hard for our middle of the night food choices.

Eventually, I only felt a couple of stabbings every hour instead of every second, and Kevin finally crawled out of the restroom, tired and beaten. We hydrated ourselves, lied together, back to back, sending memes since we were too exhausted to turn around. Time really does heal all wounds, (even stomach wounds).

After a good full day of being bedridden, the pain subsided. We could  hold down water and some tortilla strips. All of the re hydrating liquids my friends threw a our feet were finally taking effect. We looked at each other through the low light of the lamps and both had the same thing in mind:

All this emotional and physical suffering really made us hungry!. 

After all this time of course we learned our lesson. Our stomachs were still shaky, still stitching its poor self back together. We needed something light, something to ease our bodies back into the way they used to be 24 hours ago. Any rational person would think that way, but Kevin and I aren't rational people.

When we work together with the three brain-cells we cumulatively share, we do not listen to our past mistakes. If you looked inside of our sad brains, you would see one of those circus monkey's with cymbals in it's hands, with the cymbals not even working cause we're just. that. dumb.

To put it into perspective, here are the things to do AFTER a stomach flu.
- DO NOT order from the sketchy UberEats
- DO NOT eat anything heavy in fats, oils or dairy
- DO keep it light with either bland rice, chicken broth, or small fruits and vegetables.

Obviously, Kevin and I didn't follow any of those rules. We ordered through UberEats again, seafood this time, with hearty soup that contained a medley of fresh seafood. We ate some raw fish, which you are NOT supposed to do, ate a fuckton, which you are NOT supposed to do either, and literally just tested the limits of our stomachs in a downright abusive way.

So Denise, you ask. What was the outcome of this?

Deliciousness.

Deliciousness and the cheapest lobster tacos you will have in your entire goddamn sad existence.

Like I said, I am not the world's smartest person, and now you have written proof of it.

But hey, if this ever kills me, at least I went out doing what I loved.

Note: this is not the dastardly dish that gave me food poisoning. However, I DID scarf like 10 of these bad boys when I was down there. If you want to try this dish,  you can find it here!

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