It's a sickness, really. I can't think of a day I don't at least have a nibble of chocolate and three cups of coffee.
There are worse vices, I think. Maybe.
Anyway, last week I had the pleasure of going on a lunch date with my sister and my dad during my weekly breather. When we'd finished up, I had a little over an hour to spare, which obviously meant that I was going thrifting.
I found a few things I, of course, just had to have, including a vintage tablecloth and a wool minidress from the 60s that I hope I actually wear.
As I was leaving I noticed something I now wish I could erase from my mind completely.
Right there, next to my favorite Goodwill, was a chocolate factory. And it had a retail store.
Filled with samples. Frack.
Coincidentally, I still needed to get my Grandpa's Father's Day gift, and since his sweet tooth is even stronger than mine, I wandered in.
I'm not talking subpar chocolate here, people. I am talking the good stuff. Truffles and truffle bars in flavors one only dreams of, all natural and 100% kosher.
And here is the kicker. The thing that is sure to lead me down a path of doom:
two wall to wall, industrial sized shelves filled to the brim with hundreds of bags like this:
Each bag filled with over a pound of factory seconds. The same delicious chocolate, just broken or stuck together.
For five bucks.
FIVE DINKY DOLLARS.
Cappuccino Crunch, Sea Salt, Peanut Butter, Champagne, Extreme Dark: about a bajillion divine flavors calling me to them.
My chocolate doesn't have to be pretty for me to love it.
I don't discriminate like that.
I managed to walk out with 2 pounds of chocolate for my Gramps, and only two bags for
me my dudes.
Ugh. Like I said, I wish I had some brain bleach right now. This could be dangerous.
(psst. 15% off all week in the shop with the code 'summerlove'!)