Musings Over Frozen Yogurt

I sat there, staring at the frozen yogurt in front of me, wondering why I even bought the damn thing; I mean, I don’t even like frozen yogurt.  Now I have to ask myself, do I really eat this ice cream wannabe of a treat or do I just throw it away?  Who the hell ever thought freezing yogurt would ever be an acceptable substitute for the true delicacy of ice cream.  Some evil genius freezes yogurt and then boldly claims “I have a healthy alternative to ice cream!” and I’m supposed to be impressed; but still, I bought the damn thing, for some strange reason.

What was I thinking when I bought this?  I could just throw it away, untouched and uneaten, but then I’ll be haunted with the voices of my parents telling me how some poor frozen yogurt deprived kid in some frozen yogurt deprived country will die a horrifically slow painful death from starvation if I waste my frozen yogurt.  I’ll never understand how my eating my food would save some other person from starvation; but still, I bought the damn thing, for some strange reason.

I’m sitting here in this establishment, looking at the vile cup of frozen yogurt and wondering why I’m even in here.  I realize that this is the frozen yogurt place that my parents like to visit; they both love frozen yogurt more than they love their own children.  God, I hope they don’t come in tonight while I’m sitting here; they’ll see me and suddenly think that I started liking this crap and I’ll never get away from it.  They’ll come over to visit me at my apartment and bring a jug of wretched frozen yogurt for us to enjoy while they visit and then leave the rest for me to “eat later”.  God, I hate this stuff; but still, I bought the damn thing, for some strange reason.

I grab my spoon that came with my bowl of frozen yogurt and begin to scoop a spoonful of this horrid stuff with the intent of putting it in my mouth but I cannot follow through, so I put the spoonful back into my bowl.  I keep telling myself that I should at least try to eat it since I bought it; perhaps my tastes have changed enough for me to force this sludge down.  Even though I try, I still cannot do it, I do not want to eat this stuff; but still, I bought the damn thing, for some strange reason.

Why did I come here?  What the hell did I buy this guck for?  I don’t even like the flavor that I purchased.  I look around the place and see the line of people waiting to order their frozen yogurt and the seats are slowly filling up with the people choosing to eat their sickening treat in the establishment, just like me; well not exactly like me because they actually like this garbage and I cannot stand it; but still, I bought the damn thing, for some strange reason.

“Is this seat taken?” a voice asks.

I look up and see this most beautiful woman; I take a quick scan of the place and notice the only seat not currently occupied is the seat next to me so I tell her that she is most welcome to sit next to me.  She happens to be one of the most beautiful women that I have ever seen; I take a quick look at her frozen yogurt and notice she has the same flavor as me so I use this to start a conversation with her.  She’s eating her frozen yogurt and I still haven’t take a single bite of mine; but still, I bought the damn thing, for some strange reason.

I soon realize that it may look odd if I do not eat the wretched frozen yogurt that I have sitting in front of me while talking to this woman, so I force myself to take a bite.  Somehow I’m actually able to eat this dismal treat and convincingly fake liking it.  To my delight, the woman and I connect and end up talking until the frozen yogurt establishment closes.  As we are leaving I take a chance and invite the woman back to my place for a nightcap; to my pleasant surprise, she accepts.

I don’t know what brought me to this denizen of imitation ice cream and what prompted me to purchase this horrid bowl of frozen yogurt, perhaps it was fate; whatever prompted me, it was indeed good fortune.  I was even able to eat the wretched treat and convincingly pretend that I loved this trash just as much as the beautiful woman who sat next to me; but then again, as a serial killer, I’m used to feigning any interest necessary to convince my next victim to come home with me.