Hmmm....Worst thing I've ever tasted. I've tasted quite a few things in my lifetime, so I can't pin down what was the worst. I'll just make a short list:
Orange juice concentrate -- The hell if I know why my mother decided to buy this and not regular orange juice, but the day I tried it, I was jonesing for some o.j. I thought it was some new off-brand shit, so I poured some in a glass. I should've known something was up when some nasty, thick, opaque orange stuff came out, but stupid me shrugged and sucked some of it down. Stupid, stupid... >.<
Subway's "Seafood Special" -- I and my siblings were hanging with my aunt, her partner and her partner's son one day a few years back in D.C. and we decided to go to the new Air and Space Museum that opened. Inside, they had a cafeteria area with a few booths giving out lunches, and one of them was a Subway. Never tried it, so I went over and read their menu. I noticed something called a "Seafood Special". I, being a huge seafood lover, was curious as to how a seafood sub would taste, so I got one.
If I ever find the son-of-a-***** ************ who thought that putting fake crab stick, shrimp and mayonaisse together in a bun was a smart idea, I'll shove one of those sandwich abominations right up his ass. I was only able to get through half of the six-incher before I had to toss it. The entire day, my stomach ached, I'm guessing because it didn't know what to do with what I gave it. Later that night, my mother came over to join us for dinner: my aunt had made a beautiful and delicious spread that included, but was not limited to, some shrimp and vegetables. My stomach was still killing me, but I tried to get some down, thinking that if I could just push it down with something of quality, I could get it out faster. I was pounding antiacids like candy, desperately trying anything to make the ache stop.
But to no avail. Sweating and doubled over in pain, I got up in the middle of the night and walked down from the attic bedroom into the second-floor bathroom. I turned on the light, crouched on the floor, and gave an offering to the porcelain goddess, finally ridding myself of the damned concoction. The day after, my aunt tried to blame my vomiting on her cooking (the very idea!), but I knew the true culprit. I've been able to forgive Subway over the years, and do enjoy the sandwiches that I get there (Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki on Honey Wheat is one of my favorites), but I'll never forget the pain they first caused me...
I can't think of anything else at the moment, so if I do, I'll either edit this post or do another.