Mmmmmm... delicious


Not five minutes after we left the field yesterday, my phone rang as Chookie was driving the three of us back home. I answered, and Fatty Fat Andy (Fisher, a necessary distinction in this story) asked if I could pick him up from the airport, his roommate having just bailed on picking him up in four hours or so. Kris and I had plans with Skinny Andy (Crews, see? you needed the distinction), but figured I could sneak away as needed after dinner to pick him up.

A nice advantage to living 15 minutes door to door to the airport: picking people up from it is No Big Deal.

A couple hours later, when Kris and I arrived at Skinny Andy's house, I commented to Skinny Boy that I would need to dash away around 8 to pick up Fatty, I hoped that would be okay. Skinny Boy agreed it would be fine, and hey, if we go to the Cheesecake Factory (my current favorite dessert restaurant, trumping Cold Stone Creamery as of late), we could be even closer to the airport.

So, after dinner, the three of us, along with Blue and Shadow, piled into Andy's car and off we went to the Factory. After arriving, and realizing there were no bar seats available, we decided to order to-go, including a fourth slice for Fatty Fat. We looked at all our 1500 calorie choices, and found this one:

Low Carb Cheesecake

Yes, people, you see that correctly. Low Carb Cheesecake.

The three of us looked at that cheesecake, burst out laughing, and immediately agreed that Fatty Fat would receive the Low Carb Cheesecake Made With Splenda. After all, who else would be a better candidate for such a tasty bite?

I went to the counter, and ordered a slice of the French Silk Chocolate cheesecake, a slice of the Vanilla Bean cheesecake, a slice of the Key Lime cheesecake, and a slice of the Low Carb Cheesecake Made With Splenda.

The guy on the other side of the counter paused at the last slice, looked up at me and stated, "You don't want that."

Startled, I could only respond wittily with "I don't?"

Quite the comeback, eh?

"No, you don't want that."

"Why not?"

"Low Carb? Cheesecake? They don't go together. You don't want that."

Skinny Boy piped up next to me, "But it's for a prank."

"A cruel one at that. You don't want the Low Carb," the guy behind the counter insisted.

Okay, okay, I relented, and ordered a slice of the White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle cheesecaske, my favorite after Pumpkin cheesecake.

As we were standing there waiting for our order, Kris piped up, "So, man, how far did you get with the Low Carb?" asking the guy who took our order.

He turned to us. "I haven't. I've never tried it."

"WHAT?!" Good lord, man, you haven't tried it but you won't let us order it? Dammit, man, "I'd like to order a slice."

He looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, and rang one up for me.

The three of us waited for our order of five cheesecake slices, then wandered to the car to be greeted by two happy, cramped dogs, and managed to distribute our slices before Fatty Fat called, he had just landed, and would be walking to the pickup spot shortly. Off we went to pick him up.

After a round about the airport and a valiant attempt not to be shooed away from the curb while waiting for Fatty Fat, we found him. He piled into the car, and off we went back to Skinny Boy's house. Kris handed Fatty Fat his cheesecake, and we all waited with bated breath.

Two bites later, "MMMMMMMmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMmmmmmmMmm! Thanks guys! It's DEE-LISH-US!"

Unable to contain ourselves, the three of us burst into laughter.

Oh, sure, we eventually gave him the tasty raspberry slice, and, sure, we told him about what we had done.

And, maybe, just maybe, the second slice tasted better than the first.

But only in comparison.

The cheesecake was good


Fewer than twenty four hours in town means that everything is a whirlwind, including my too short visit with Jessica. She was out and about with a friend when I first texted her, yesterday, but was free after Dad and I had done our errands, arrived in down and visited the house. So, off we went.

I've been craving a Starbucks Signature hot chocolate A LOT lately, so I offered coffee or a hot chocolate and just sit and talk. Oh, yeah. Jessica stopped by to pick me up, suggested the local chocolate house where they had all sorts of chocolate this and chocolate that, including hot chocolate, and off we went.

Now, Jessica is going to be mad at me for saying this here, instead of saying it to her directly, but well, I have to say the chocolate from this chocolate house has to be the third most disgusting chocolate I've had since I ate that bag of year-old M&M's in junior high school. The chocolate is cheap, tasting of was instead of cocoa. Passing on the chocolate from this place isn't like passing on real chocolate, it's like passing on wax lips - not really hard.

However, I hadn't tried their hot chocolate, so I was still game for this place.

I ordered a hot chocolate and a slice of pumpkin cheesecake, because, really, who can resist pumpkin cheesecake (except Elina, of course)? I was unsurprised when the hot chocolate tasted like Swiss Miss hot chocolate made from water and missing the marshmellows, but happily surprised at the cheesecake. It was tast-TEE!

We chatted for a while, sitting in the front corner of the coffeehouse-like sitting area, before I realized I had been sitting in a completely defensive posture, pointing away from Jess. I knew the reason for the posture, but hadn't realized I was expressing it quite so rudely, so I dropped my arms and turned towards her, in order to engage her better. The conversation became less awkward, and flowed easier.

Right up until the dynamic completely changed with a call.

Gabby was in the area with her dad, and hey, he'd just drop her off now instead of actually dropping her off at home.

Now, I'm always happy to see Gab (well, except when she's being a butthead, but are eight year olds ever buttheads? wait, don't answer that), but our conversation was actually starting to open up when the storm of energy burst through the door, arms and legs flying in all directions. Our conversation turned stilted as Gabby's dad walked in, and that was the end of that conversation.

At one point, Jessica commented to me that, hey did you know you can't kiss your elbow? I commented back, yeah, well, you CAN lick the back of your knee.

Try it.