Last night Hugh, Emily and I attended a Business After Hours held by the Chamber of Commerce (Oscar is out of town so we willingly obliged Emily’s offer to escort her to the event; hey she paid!).
The After Hours was held at a new bank in town and, having heard a lot about the artwork that one of my friends had been commissioned to do for the building, I was looking forward to attending.
I was also very much looking forward to taking a small break from the sugar detox and thus joined the line to the dessert table, eyeing a plate of chocolate-raspberry brownies; my god, they looked good.
Too bad they tasted like ass.
Seriously, my brownie crumbled into dust the second I stuck a fork in it. I was so disappointed and, at that point, the other desserts, which may or may not have proven more promising, were already gone.
I could have cried.
I complained mightily about the injustice visited upon me by the asslike brownie for the remainder of the evening and I’m sure Emily was happy to be done with my whining when we finally dropped her off at her house.
Hugh wasn’t so fortunate since he does live with me and had to listen to my continued bitching the rest of the way home. At least the conversation was entertaining:
Chelle: That brownie sucked. I can’t believe they would actually serve something so vile. It was totally dried out.
Hugh: Of course they were gross, they had nuts in them.
Chelle: Whatever, nut-hater. I’ve had plenty of brownies with nuts in them and they were just fine.
Hugh: Maybe they were moist nuts. Ha! You like moist nuts!
Chelle: You wish.