The background story
Team Gingerbread: Hey, look it’s your husband!
The Pansy: Um, that’s The Goth Girl’s boyfriend dude…
Team Gingerbread: Oh, that’s awkward. Thank God she didn’t hear me…
Team Gingerbread: BarelyLegalBoy was trying to talk to you…
AirQuote: I was trying to be nonchalant
Team Gingerbread: Uh, you ran away. That’s actually the opposite of nonchalant
“…and Potent Potables for $100, Alex!”
So I’m about to leave work and we’re performing the perfunctory bag checks.
“Yo, look in my bag!” I call out to whoever is listening
“…and before you ask, yes that is a copy of Martha Stewart Living and a block of fudge in my bag” I spit out preemptively
“Ooh, fudge! Can I have some?” asks The Goth Girl
“Uh, no.” I reply quickly
“Come on, I gave you juice” she pleads, “I love fudge”
“I know, but you don’t want this, trust me…” I say as I try to reason with her, but she persists and I give in “Fine!”
“Ew! That is so gross!” “I think it’s coating my mouth!” and “Whoever made that should be shot, then pissed on!” were just a few of the choice phrases that came out of her mouth as she quickly gulped down a 500mL bottle of water in the back room.
“Uh, who made that for you?” piped up The Pansy, quickly adding “Was it The Engineer?”
“Uh, no. I don’t really want to have this conversation with you…” I trailed off
“Are you going to blog it – or tell me later?”
“Uh, no. That’s not necessary. Ok, bye!” I yell as I trot out of the store to get tacos (not a metaphor)
In truth, I actually got the fudge from The Engineer’s mom (well she gave it to him and he gave it to me). He doesn’t like fudge (probably because he’s only had his mom’s terrible fudge, and has nothing good to compare it to – erroneously assuming that all fudge tastes like hot ass, which is not the case) and gave it to me because I heart fudge and I was stressed about exams and shit.
Moral of the story fudge (like pizza and sex) is not good even when it’s really, really bad.