For me it was an unexpectedly hot salsa that I put on a bowl of carnitas my dad got for me.
See the thing is, this porky goodness was from a place 30 minutes away, that really knows how to do its shit right. And when carnitas are good, they can absorb a lot of heat and tang without either of those two becoming overpowering.
This salsa must have had a mutant habanero or something, because it's spicier than the normal stuff, and worst of all it was a slow burn. I'm halfway through my bowl until the burn starts flaring up, though I'm lucky enough to have horchata and yogurt in the house. Unfortunately not only did they not help, the carnitas are so good I can't stop myself from eating them, even though I know they will cause me more pain. My mind is now trapped in a pleasure-pain loop cycle where I want the pleasure of more pork taste but the pain keeps reminding me that my ass should really stop. I start to laugh, and then cry, because this stuff is too good but hurts too much, until I finally decided to give up and wait for the pain to stop.
Once my dad gets home, I told him about how the salsa made me cry like a bitch, and he laughs at me because he loves spicy food and thinks I'm exaggerating like a little pussy. When he gets to my leftovers though and tries it out, within a few minutes he's hiccuping and sweating and admits that I was not kidding about that shit.
Broke my taste buds because of some hot sauce one day but that's another story.