Last week my buddy and I went to Hudson's Tap House on Edmonton's Whyte Avenue. We watched to Oilers get their asses handed to them by the Ducks of Anaheim and the Evil Chris Pronger.
After a couple pints of Rickards Red I decided to order some wings. I initially went for the medium but my friend intervened and asked that we get mild. I called him out for being a wimp but I relented and agreed to mild wings.
After the first wing my lips were burning and my tongue had lost its feeling. Who was the pansy now? As I looked over at him to see if he had noticed my discomfort I saw a bead a sweat rolling down his forehead. He was suffering too! We were both relieved to know of each others struggles.
Like troopers we slowly finished off the wings over the third period. Our pain was intensified by watching the Oilers get shamed on a big screen TV.
Next time I am ordering the potato skins.
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