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Sunday, January 21, 2007


Sugar Rush

My wife and I spent some time in Times Square today. It's someplace I try to avoid when possible, 'cause there's always a huge fucking crowd and they're always the type of people who stop abruptly on the sidewalk right in front of you. But today, we went to see the musical adaptation of Grey Gardens, which required us to be right in the heart of Neon Central.

The friend we went to see the show with took us to a Greek bakery on 42nd and I had a minor existential crisis. I like dessert. I'm a freak for pies and I have some ice cream probably six out of seven nights a week. When I looked in the case at the bakery, I was overwhelmed. There was just too goddamn much to choose from. There was some really nice-looking baklava. There were a few types of cheesecake. There were cookies of all sorts (although, I have to say that these fell pretty far down on my list, 'cause cookies I can get pretty much any time). There were a number of different cakes.

The lady came over to take our order and I panicked. I hadn't even kind of made up my mind. But I couldn't send her away; she was standing there with the plates. So I just pointed at something cakeish and chocolatey.

And it was a mistake. It was a big mistake, just like any number of mistakes I make when some dessert looks gooey and delicious and I think, "Hey...gooey and delicious!" But then I get it and it's so goddamn rich that I really don't need any more than one bite, but I've ordered the whole thing and paid for it, so I have no real choice but to eat it.

This thing was not what I was expecting. I was thinking it was a cake. I was so very wrong. It chocolate cement that was a half hour from setting. Denser than hell and far too rich. I had some coffee, which helped, but not enough. And yet I sat there through our pleasant dessert conversation and I ate the whole goddamn thing. Stupid.

After the show, when my wife and I were making our way to the uptown train, we came across a sight bewildering enough to make us wonder if the dessert we'd eaten three hours earlier had been laced with a slow-acting hallucinogenic. On Broadway and 48th, there is a store--a big-ass, three level job--called M&M World. They sell M&Ms.

The frigging place is three levels of shitty-looking M&M merchandise. T-shirts, nightgowns, plastic toys, vibrators. It's just bizarre. I wondered aloud, "Who the fuck would buy this?" And yet, the place had a good-sized crowd. Including us.

The big draw, I guess, was the fact that they sold every color of M&Ms you could think of and they did it by individual colors. So you could "custom blend" just the right combo of M&Ms for you. We were disgusted. We found it absolutely disgraceful. So we just put together a small bag of lavender and blue peanut M&Ms and left.

They were crunchy.

I think I might like an M&M vibrator. A peanut M&M vibrator.

MMmmm...melts in your_____, not in your ______

Oh my god, I think my blood sugar must be perilously low for me to have actually thought and typed that...

(much less post)
You should have seen that place at xmas time. I think the entire population of Iowa was in there.

Great idea Suzanne, they probably had that in the old Times Square...
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