Nothing to see here folks. As you were. Please talk amongst yourselves.
Back at my desk. It wasn’t pretty.
I ate as if I’d come off of a thirty day famine. The wedges were crisp and golden, heftier than their French fry cousins. They’d been seasoned with salt and pepper then tossed with dried rosemary; still piping hot, perfect for dunking into the ketchup. An ice cold pint of beer would have been perfect. I gulped water.
I munched and read through the emails that had piled up in my inbox over the lunch hour. When every last wedge was gone, every last bit of ketchup sopped up, I sat staring at the screen.
Then, the faintest whisper.
Something very familiar.
I typed away furiously, doing my best to lalalalala.
It got louder.
Twenty minutes, I mouthed over and over, twenty minutes.
It started to shout then.
Five pounds, five pounds, five pounds I chanted desperately.
But it drowned me out: CHOCOLATE!
DO YOU HEAR ME?????
NEEEEEED. CHOCOLATE. NOW!!!!!!!
My fingers stopped typing. My legs automatons.
There was no drinking water till it shut up. No tricking it into submission with a rice cake and peanut butter.
Before I knew what was happening, I was running to the escalators, bee lining it to the coffee cart, running my finger over the plastic enclosure on the platter of dessert pastries: Date square? No.
Éclair? No, no.
Oatmeal bar with raisins? Absolutely no.
And then... Yes, yes, yes: Thick chocolate cover, layers of peanuts and rice crispies, glued together with firm hardened caramel.
Hello Dolly. How do I know your name?
I scurried scurried my ninja-self back to my desk. I sat. Looked around.
Had anyone noticed?
I cut the square in two and sliced one of the halves into thin pieces. I lay the slices out flat on a napkin.
I’ll take the other half home. Dessert for the kids.
I then responded to the emails. Popped each slice into my mouth.
Sweet, crunchy, chocolaty. Salty. Calming.
I looked down and the slices were gone. I cut a sliver off the other half.
They’re so picky, I reminded myself. They won’t like this.
Another sliver. Another slice. And another.
I looked down and it was all gone.
The sugar was now swirling in my head.
I was dizzy.
Water. I needed water.
Ughhhhh. Oh my geeeezzzzz.
My pants are too tight.
I need to lie down.
Or throw up.
Oh godddd, why?
Why did I eat the whole thing?
I need the couch.
I need my comfy pants,
To run ten miles.
This is the last time.
I'm yearning for these kinds of days.