I think I’m going to die.
There’s no way that someone could eat as much chocolate as I have in the past hour and still live, it’s just not possible.
And I type this as I lick curls of fudge from my spoon. I’m seriously going to be the death of me someday. (Ah, the irony)
Today was our school’s annual Chocolate Festival. Upon hearing of its occurrence I was so excited, I planned to get tickets and gas the place with nitrous oxide so that I could just take it all…
But then I forgot. Because I’m an idiot with the memory of a goldfish. And so, one fine day the floor of our dorm was doing a little group-bonding session and visiting the solar house, when some of my suitemates started talking excitedly about the choco-festival signup. I expressed my excitement for the sweets that I was sure to plunder and they looked at me with the sad look that said, ‘Meghan, you idiot.’ So I ran to my mentor and pleaded with her on a bended knee to let me sign up late. I swear there were tears in my eyes. She did (thankyouthankyouthankyou!) and I danced around with my ticket clenched in a victorious fist while onlookers stared in confusion.
And so, days passed. And on the bright sunny day of a Chemistry quiz (today), I was sitting on a table a minute before class, typing absently on my laptop, when two of my friends came up with pink boxes balanced in their hands. One of them is in a sorority, so I thought it was some sororo thing that I did not hear of or understand, but I asked anyway.
“What’s if the pink boxes?”
They smiled happily, “Chocolate Festival.”
I stared at them for a heartbeat. Then I stared out at the stairs which I would have to run down to sprint to the building where the Festival was. Then I stared at the Chemistry room where the quiz was to be held. Stairs. Chem room. Stairs. Chem room. Chocolate or quiz? Oh, fuck that.
“WATCH MY STUFF!” I yelled before I took off down the corridor.
It wasn’t just a simple matter of stairs. First I had to go down the stupid elevator, then I went down the stairs, then I ran through the free expression tunnel, up some stairs, down a street, down some stairs, into the building, up more stairs, then I was at the stupid place. Once I was in I soaked in the aura and forgot my imminent quiz, taking a little pink box and some ‘how to perform your own breast examination’ pamphlets from the nice people at the front. Oh, did I not mention? It wasn’t just free chocolate; it was a way to lure in women to be forced to learn about breast cancer. These people were smart. We couldn’t resist such a well-laid trap, and they knew it. But I didn’t have time so I just sort of grabbed the papers and walked very quickly around to the different tables, picking up samples and having my card stamped. There were fountains of chocolate, giant cakes, platters of cookies and brownies (and blondies, what are blondies?). I hope they had medics standing by in case anyone suffered a stroke or heart attack.
Once I had my spiffy box full I had to walk quickly back to class (no more tearing through the crowd, dodging the people). Luckily the quiz was at the end of class and Meghan lived happily ever after. Except that she’s going to die of chocolate overdose. But that’s such a good way to go…
"It is unbecoming for young men to utter maxims."
-Meghan
1 comment:
I love chocolate, too!
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