You’re supposed to experiment when you’re at University. Everyone does it. Or claims to have done it. I mean, I had it nailed because I did three years of Chemistry, so I was pretty much experimenting every day in one way or another. But I didn’t just experiment in the lab. No, once I got hold of a substance and took it home to try it.
That substance was strawberry flavour toothpaste.
Which, when you write it out, sounds alright. It’s toothpaste, but it tastes of strawberries. Everyone likes strawberries. Apart from those people who don’t and the ones who are deathly allergic. But they would be unlikely to buy strawberry flavoured toothpaste.
But I am not those people. So I did buy it.
And in all honesty, it was terrible.
Absolutely awful. I don’t know if the people who made it didn’t know what strawberries actually tasted like, or possibly were a little overambitious in their hopes that the flavour of strawberry would mask all the various bits and bobs (see, that chemistry degree is paying dividends) that make up toothpaste, but it was a resounding failure. I tried it once, maybe twice, and then consigned it to the bin.
You’d have thought I would have learnt my lesson, right there, about trying things that sound good on paper, but a little voice at the back of your head has some doubts. But, it would appear, that is not the case
Which is why, ladies and gentlemen, I bought some liquorice flavour tea.
Any tea that comes with a warning that you should only drink a maximum of one cup a day, is pretty impressive, I’m sure you’ll agree. And it did just that. It made it quite clear that only one cup of comforting liquorice tea should be consumed in any 24 hour period, lest its potent ingredients cause your heart to rupture or somesuch.
I made it to two sips.
It was bloody awful. I was expecting something with the aroma and taste of a liquorice allsort but with a lot less of the chewing. What I got was something that looked like piss in a mug and tasted foul. I think I’d rather have had piss in a mug, in all honesty.
But if we don’t try these things, we’ll never know. That’s what Carole said, as she sipped at her Cranberry and Blood Orange tea which tasted delicious but smelt like a sweaty person.
I’d have settled for my drink tasting like a sweaty person, not whatever horrible concoction had come out of that bag.
If anyone wants nineteen liquorice tea bags, let me know. You can’t have them, because I’ve thrown them away. But I can come round to your house and slap you until you see sense.