I was in Hawaii shopping the swap meet at The Hula Bowl, not something typically done by tourists.
There was a man there with a huge machete whacking the tops off of coconuts and selling them with a free straw to the Islanders and uninformed.
I had to have one!
It was vile. I continued to drink it as I was trying to understand how everyone was walking around sipping from those nasty things. They really seemed to be enjoying them.
It was not until years later when a different man in a different place was practicing the same manuevers with his machete.
What the heck, I’d give it another go.
It was at that moment that I realized that I had forced myself to drink sour, spoiled, , rancid, coconut milk that probably could have ruined my trip, but somehow hadn’t.