Well...
When I lived in a more rural area for a short time, I had passed a roadside stand selling corn. "How Great!" I thought to myself, because I had recently become a huge fan of corn on the cob. I always had the bagged-already-removed type and a friend had convinced me to pick up the frozen corn on the cobs once--and since then I was hooked. It looked easy enough, peel away the green and then cook, right?
So I picked up some corn and went home. I already had some chicken and potatoes in the kitchen, so I figured I would make a big meal of it. Picking up the phone, I dialed a new friend there and invited him over.
See, I love to cook. It is one of my passions that helps me socially, because, well, who
doesn't want a home-cooked meal every so often? It is a weapon I wield, and I like to believe, wield decently.
One thing I am excellent at is timing everything to the point where all the food finishes at the same time, so I did not even attempt the corn until I had put the chicken on the stove.
I peel off one layer of green leaves. Another layer is left behind. "How curious!" I thought to myself, likening it to a Russian matroyska doll.
After peeling leaves off the solitary cob for a while, I figured there needed to be a faster way, or else dinner would never be served. I grabbed the top of the corn and pulled as hard as I possibly could.
The leaves finally gave and pulled way, spilling out wispy hairs all onto the counter. Now, I knew these green leaves were supposed to be on the corn, but were these hairs? I didn't think it seemed possible for those to just grow inside of the corn's leaves. I decided to check with another piece of corn.
A few minutes later led to me staring at the half-shucked corn on the counter, all with these hairy wisps pouring out. My heart was pounding. Did I get defective corn? Was there some flora-disease spreading around that causes the corn to spontaneously sprout hair?
The food was near done and my guest was due in one minute. I quickly pulled the rest of the leaves and hair off the corn and threw them into the pot.
My guest arrived, and we sat down to eat. He took a piece of corn and was about to eat it, when guilt poured all over me. "Wait!" I exclaimed. He stopped before he took a single bite, and listened while I confessed that I was serving him defective corn.
Of course, he laughed hysterically, and explained shucking to me. At least by the time I wrote this, I have stopped hearing about it.