(I hand the box of chocolates around. Beta Max takes a moccachino caramel toffee with whipped orange mallow and dark chocolate swirls. Hmmm, I think. I really wanted that one.
Alpha Girl hesitates before choosing. “So why are you being so generous?” she says.
“I just wanted to share,” I reply. “Something wrong with that?”
Alpha Girl grabs five chocolates from the box, watches my eye twitch slightly. “These ones are your favourites, aren’t they?” she says, her eyes glinting malevolently. “I’m going to enjoy them so much…”)
Chocolate! I’m not a huge chocolate eater, but when I have some I like to take my time to enjoy it. Of course, I share with others because it’s the right thing to do. But deep down, there’s that niggling selfishness to keep it all to myself, so I can stuff my face silly.
I’m not the sort of person who hoards food. I’m more than happy to share anything I have with people around me, whether they’re horrible to me or not.
(“Hey!” says Alpha Girl. “Is that some veiled reference to me?”
“No,” I reply. “I don’t need to disguise anything I write about you.”)
Chocolate is one of those things that most people just can’t get enough of. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who doesn’t like it (hold on, I remember some crazy weirdo on a train once who didn’t, but I think their mind was on other things…)
Apparently it’s been around for about 3000 years or so and was used by the Aztecs. There’s nothing like a bit of chocolate after a busy day flaying people alive and cutting out their hearts.
I’m a dark chocolate lover; I like the bitterness mixed with the sweetness. Others prefer milk chocolate, white chocolate, blended chocolates – in fact there are so many types of boutique chocolates now, I’m not sure if they can be called chocolate any longer.
Apparently eating a little chocolate every day is good for your gut bacteria. I prefer that argument to the one about causing obesity. I’m not a fan of eating lots of chocolate (unlike my father, who enjoys his chocolate in bulk, and preferably in his stomach as soon as possible), but I guess there’s a time and a place for everything.
(“Man, I love chocolate,” says Beta Max, as he grabs another from the box and stuffs it unceremoniously into his mouth. “I could eat these all day.”
“As long as you leave some for me,” I say. The chocolates diminish along with my hope.)
Yeah, chocolate is mighty, fine stuff. But then I’m preaching to the converted, aren’t I?