LEAVE THE DESSERT AND RUN

I tried to buy a coffee and a muffin today.  I really did. But, you see, the frozen yogurt place was calling to me.

I should not have listened.

Next to Dunkins near my hairdresser is a frozen yogurt shop that always looks inviting, but I never accept the invitation.  Today I thought I would stick my head in and check it out, maybe get some yogurt.

Mistake.

When I walk in, no one is there but me and the super-creepy guy behind the counter. Fleeing is no longer an option.  I'll look like an idiot. 

I grab the smallest bowl available (luckily they have a kiddie sized cup) and start working my way toward the frozen yogurt, expecting great flavor choices as I am very used to being spoiled by its competitor Orange Leaf.

Wow.  I have a choice of chocolate, vanilla, some fruity stuff, and peanut butter.  That's it.  No wedding cake, no brownie batter, and no pineapple.  Oh, sure, they have cookies and cream, but after seeing the gritty, sand-like consistency of the vanilla, I'm kind of afraid to try anything else.  I cover it all with chocolate and head to the counter.

I am scared of the jimmies.  Maybe creepy man has had his fingers in it or something, so I opt for hot fudge.  Hot ... fudge ... fudge ...

Damnit.  The fucking shit is so cold that I can barely get a globule to come out.

If I were smart, right here and right now I would run and leave the ice cream behind, but I am feeling really stupid right about now.  I pay for my small bowl's worth (a little over $3), slink back out to my car, and eat the semi-edible frozen yogurt while correcting papers until it is time to go to my hair appointment.

Next time, no frozen yogurt.  Next time, no hot fudge.  Next time, coffee and a muffin.  Next time, just leave the dessert and run ... run ... RUN.