I have no idea what even made me randomly think about this story. I was neither drinking, nor eating a grilled cheese sandwich – or any other variation of cheese – at the time to trigger the memory. Honestly, I never eat grilled cheese at all anymore. I hope you were sitting down when I just told you that.

In the past, I would have thrilled at the suggestion of eating grilled cheese sandwiches for all three meals a day, but then like so many other things (ie: Malibu rum…Spaghetti-O’s…etc.) this was promptly ruined for me one fateful night when I was still in college.

It all started with a night of drinking. As most terrible incidents while in college do.

I was with a friend of mine who lived right down the street from all the bars near school; convenient because then we didn’t need to get cab money together and could just walk home instead. The events that took place while we were out and about aren’t pertinent to the story. It was just a typical night of shooting pool and batting our eyes at guys so they would buy us drinks. Don’t judge me.

I guess I should tell you here that my friend was a total dumbass, even when she wasn’t drinking. Her name was Dawn. That’s her real name, too. I’m not even trying to protect her identity because we aren’t friends anymore since she eventually ended up turning into a mega-trainwreck not too long after the grilled cheese incident. And that’s pretty much how the name “Dawn” was ruined for me forever, too.

Anyway, Idiot Dawn and I stumbled walked home from the bar. And of course we were both hungry because it was 2am and we were drunk college students. Obviously, going to Taco Bell* was out of the question because that would require one of us to get behind the wheel of a car. So it was her brilliant idea to cook us something. And that ‘something’ would be grilled cheese because A) You could have a full frontal lobotomy and probably still figure out how to make one of those, and B) Cheese and bread were the only two grocery items left in the house. I loved grilled cheese, so I wasn’t complaining.

*Come to think of it…Taco Bell was also ruined for me in college. That’s not such a bad thing though.

Hindsight is 20/20 and I should have known better than to trust someone as stupid and drunk as she was with food preparation. But when she bought my sandwich out, it actually looked really delicious. Or maybe I was just that starving.

So there we were, happily munching away in front of the Real World/Road Rules Challenge or whatever other ignorant garbage we used to watch at 2am back then. I was about halfway finished when I realized that something was amiss. I spit what I was chewing out into my napkin and saw that the food was full of plastic. WTF?! After some closer inspection, I noticed some more plastic poking out between the bread crusts. I gave it a tug…

…and to my dismay the rest of the half-melted wrapper that had encased a Kraft american single pulled out of my sandwich.

Apparently Drunk Idiot Dawn forgot to take the cheese out of the plastic. And apparently Drunk Idiot Salt had chewed up and swallowed a fair amount of said plastic before realizing there was a problem.

Don’t worry; I was fine. I highly doubt the way I am today has anything to do with eating a cheese wrapper.

That was the last time I ever let her cook. Come to think of it, that was the last time I was ever at her house at all.

And it was also one of the last times I had a grilled cheese. They just don’t sound delicious to me anymore.

Do you love grilled cheese? Or just cheese in general? Have you ever had anything ruined for you after a long night out?

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