Friday, September 03, 2004
Abject chocolate. As you might know, I enjoy collecting abject stories about myself and other people. I heard some real beauts this week, but of course under the conditions of my experiment I can't relate them. But I've had two recently myself, and they both involve chocolate.
In the first, I was over at Victoria Gardens (or Vicky G as it has somewhat alarmingly become known) getting lunch when I saw a Fantale sitting on the ground. I thought "Will I pick it up?"
"No, Mel, that's disgusting!" said the small, atrophied, rational part of my brain. "Most people stopped picking up random objects off the ground when they were three!"
"But it has a wrapper!" said the impulsive part of my brain. "It's still good, it's still good!"
I decided I would get a second opinion, so I stood next to the Fantale and said to two of my workmates, "Hey, check this out!" They looked at me like I had finally lost it after so much teetering on the edge of normality. But I decided I would put it in my pocket, just to give myself more time to think about whether I should eat it. That afternoon, back in the office, I unwrapped it and sat it on its wrapper, looking at it for a while, but I still stopped short of eating it. One of the chocolate sides was missing, exposing the caramel beneath.
But the next day, when I expressed my fear that someone had bitten off one of the chocolate sides and replaced the wrapper and left it on the ground in some kind of Punk'd-style experiment, and that there was probably a hidden camera watching my deliberations, another one of my workmates said "But you often get that with Fantales, that the chocolate's not covering one side. It's from when they dip them in chocolate."
And I was really hungry because I hadn't had breakfast. So I ate it. I ate a chocolate I found on the ground! And did you know that Celine Dion was unleashed upon an unsuspecting non-Canadian public thanks to recording the title track to the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast? Thanks, Fantales!
The second incident occurred just this morning, when I was rummaging through the junk in the back of my car looking for the piece of paper on which, in 2002, I had written down the lyrics to "Stand Up/Sit Down", which I can't remember anymore. And I found a large piece of chocolate. Score! I know how it must have got there, too - the time I drove some people, on a horrible rainy Thursday night, to see a gig at the Espy, and then my car ran out of gas and I had to limp to the nearest petrol station, which was the Sev on Victoria St, and _____ bought a block of chocolate which she shared round, and she must have dropped some when she was passing it back to ______ and ______.
Anyway, so I wrapped it in someone's Fringe flyer that I was given at the launch yesterday, and put in my bag for 'ron. I hope this doesn't herald a new diet based solely on foodstuffs I find by accident.
In the first, I was over at Victoria Gardens (or Vicky G as it has somewhat alarmingly become known) getting lunch when I saw a Fantale sitting on the ground. I thought "Will I pick it up?"
"No, Mel, that's disgusting!" said the small, atrophied, rational part of my brain. "Most people stopped picking up random objects off the ground when they were three!"
"But it has a wrapper!" said the impulsive part of my brain. "It's still good, it's still good!"
I decided I would get a second opinion, so I stood next to the Fantale and said to two of my workmates, "Hey, check this out!" They looked at me like I had finally lost it after so much teetering on the edge of normality. But I decided I would put it in my pocket, just to give myself more time to think about whether I should eat it. That afternoon, back in the office, I unwrapped it and sat it on its wrapper, looking at it for a while, but I still stopped short of eating it. One of the chocolate sides was missing, exposing the caramel beneath.
But the next day, when I expressed my fear that someone had bitten off one of the chocolate sides and replaced the wrapper and left it on the ground in some kind of Punk'd-style experiment, and that there was probably a hidden camera watching my deliberations, another one of my workmates said "But you often get that with Fantales, that the chocolate's not covering one side. It's from when they dip them in chocolate."
And I was really hungry because I hadn't had breakfast. So I ate it. I ate a chocolate I found on the ground! And did you know that Celine Dion was unleashed upon an unsuspecting non-Canadian public thanks to recording the title track to the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast? Thanks, Fantales!
The second incident occurred just this morning, when I was rummaging through the junk in the back of my car looking for the piece of paper on which, in 2002, I had written down the lyrics to "Stand Up/Sit Down", which I can't remember anymore. And I found a large piece of chocolate. Score! I know how it must have got there, too - the time I drove some people, on a horrible rainy Thursday night, to see a gig at the Espy, and then my car ran out of gas and I had to limp to the nearest petrol station, which was the Sev on Victoria St, and _____ bought a block of chocolate which she shared round, and she must have dropped some when she was passing it back to ______ and ______.
Anyway, so I wrapped it in someone's Fringe flyer that I was given at the launch yesterday, and put in my bag for 'ron. I hope this doesn't herald a new diet based solely on foodstuffs I find by accident.
