I Am A Sexy Chocolate

We needed a new box of tea for the house so we went to a fancy specialty shop spelled shoppe that sells exotic tea and also happens to be an equally fancy chocolatier which is apparently French for place you get snooty versions of that candy bar you used to get at a corner candy store. Now, I see myself as a regular old school Brooklyn guy. I like my coffee in a paper cup for .75 cents from the diner and if I get an itch for chocolate, I reach for a Hershey's Kiss. I'm not a connoisseur of anything except Star Trek merchandise and excuses as to why I have no acting career so the whole multilevel appreciation of foods and wines is lost on me. I'll drink vinegar and love it if you tell me it's supposed to taste that way but there was something seductive about this place so we ventured in with the caveat that we would not be taken by hoity toity candies.

As soon as we crossed the threshold (which is French for ordinary-doorways-are-for-cheap-corner-candy-stores ) into chocolate heaven we were hit with the scent of chocolate tinged with exotic spice. It was intoxicating. There were literally miles of shelves and displays offering chocolate from different parts of the world from South America to the South Bronx. There were different flavors and tones and hues; chocolate with fruit, chocolate with spices, chocolate with nuts and chocolate with all kinds of combinations of all of these. I never knew you could do so much with a simple candy. Ah, and therein lies the rub, Rube, chocolate, as it turns out, is not so simple a thing. A lot goes into making a quality confection. So much so that it gets pricey. Ever think you'd see a chocolate bar go for $15 American dollars? Me neither but they had several varieties.

Off to one side there was a special counter like you see at the deli but instead of acres of processed meats that serve as the basis for many a great sammich there were chocolates in every configuration. There were drops and cubes and chunks and blobs and bloobs and circles and stars. There were different colors and decorations on each for the different flavors. I was amazed and slowly being lured in by the siren song of cocoa. Along the walls and on the shelves the bars and blocks and drops and powders were all packaged in designer wrappers. Some were stark art-house black and others were colored according to ingredients or country of origin. It was all so…….sexy. I was becoming a chocoholic right here in front of the Raspberry Almond Indian coco blend. I wanted to feel this sexy.

I was slack jawed, drooling and sticking to the front of the glass counter when head popped up from behind it. Attached to the head was a curvy exotic chubby girl whose nametag read Dorothea who asked if I would like a sample. Now, normally, I would turn that into some kind of innuendo thing by responding with something clever like, "Hey baby, as long as it ain't a sperm sample" but I was too busy trying to unstuck myself from the glass so my response sounded more like, "Eth pleath, I'd ike a thample, Dodothea."

The lights suddenly dimmed and time slowed and I could have sworn I heard hypnotic music from somewhere. Seven minutes later I was in the midst of a chocolate orgy and on one of everything. My chocolate goddess lustily handed morsel after morsel over the counter to my waiting mouth and I hungrily and greedily accepted it all with no pressure to buy. I was soon lying on the counter in a cold sweat with my waist expanding obscenely. I wondered how much I could take before I'd be vomiting exotic confections all over the designer counter. No matter, my mouth was hanging open and Dorothea was stuffing me like a Thanksgiving turkey, a sexy chocolate Thanksgiving turkey. I could taste the paprika and pepper on her finger tips and it made me swoon. She took one of the white peppercorn cayenne squares in her teeth, unbuttoned her blouse to the top of her breasts and leaned over to feed me just as a customer walked by aghast and covering the eyes of her impressionable child.

I was beginning to feel sexy.

I was close now, I could feel it. If she moved too quickly I'd blow my cookies right there. Through her subtle sexy accent she whispered, "Hold it right there, baby, hold it there for me and take it, yes…" and she slid me a square of cherry hazelnut from Morocco. That was all I could take, I pulsed and quivered and jumped off the counter to keep from actually throwing up all the chocolate that my little confection stuffed me with. I hit the ground doubled over wondering I'd be able to make it to the door when suddenly Trace appeared equally doubled over. It seems that on the other side of the store there was another counter and another sexy sample person named Xavier. He also had an accent and offered no pressure to buy. She too was seduced by the dark side of milk chocolate. She too wanted to be sexy.

We composed ourselves and emptied our pockets to pool our cash. We walked out with a bar of Belgian milk chocolate with grilled almonds and I came away with a bar of cherries and almonds in dark chocolate. We needed the credit card.

God, I am so….sexy.