tonight - whilst enjoying a verboten bowl of Thrifty Drug Store (now Rite-Aid) ice cream, i was taken back to the late 80's.
no, the ice cream does not have time travel capabilities.
it reminded me of an essay i wrote. heck if i can remember why or for who i wrote it for. well...here it goes:
On Breaking a Diet
It's 9:30 on Monday night. Stores have closed, and people are out, crusing the night...except for me. I'm at home, toughing out the first few days of a diet, surrounded by Diet Coke & packs of sugar free gum. Lots of gum. Oh, and the TV food commercials. How nice. I'm SO hungry.
Then it happens.
"Thrifty's ice cream. Creamy. Nutty. Chocolately." (I'm beginning to believe I'm nutty for watching this. It's only torture. I'll change the channel. My hand refuses to move.) "Available in half gallons, hand scooped cones or lovingly hand packed pints and quarts. Come. Taste what has brought us honor at numerous state & county fairs. Only at Thrifty's."
The screen changes. I relax, thankful the torment is over...but only for a moment. I feel evil...unclean. The devil is here, in this same room. Sweat breaks out over my body. I wish for for Richard Simmons to confess to. The end is near and I need redemption.
So I grab a 3 Muskateers bar, rip the wrapper off and eat it.
I know...but what the hell. At least I don't feel guilty.