Chalk it up to the mezcal, or the riotous atmosphere, or the siren song of the altered state, but that’s when I determined to eat the entire chile. Another small nibble, and sweat began to bead on my forehead. A third, and a fourth, in quick succession, crazy spicy capsaicin heat spreading through my mouth, rendering me unable to speak. My friends noticed I’d started to drift off into some distant world of my own, realized my intent with the chile, and laughed heartily at the red-faced shock into which my face had contorted. My mouth on fire, tongue numb, lips burning, water only a reminder of the lava-like intensity permeating my entire consciousness, I realized that the only path toward achieving my goal lay in quick, decisive action. And so--chomp, chomp, chomp--I finished the thing off before my reasoning mind took hold.

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