Ladies and gentlemen, I fell off the proverbial wagon today. No, wait. I was pushed. My hand to God, I was pushed. If ever there was an instance when someone could be tricked into getting drunk, this is it and I’m the victim. VICTIM, I TELL YOU.
We have a little table at work, in the middle of all of our workstations, where we set out some goodies. Usually jubbies or licorice or crackers. Just a little something to nibble on to tide us over until lunch. I rarely take any because I don’t believe in snacking unless it is made from or covered in chocolate. Oh, or sprinkles. We hardly ever get chocolate anything because chocolate is more expensive than sugar-coated bell-shaped gummies. That’s ok. I bring my own chocolate bars to snack on anyway.
But today! Today there was a box of delicious looking chocolates on the table. Gorgeous milk chocolate pieces. Of course, I grabbed one on my way to the washroom because if I didn’t, they would be gone when I got back and that would be NO GOOD.
I popped it in my mouth when I was in the hallway, ready for that creamy sweetness.
WRONG! So wrong! So, so wrong. Blah!!! MY MOUTH HAS BEEN VIOLATED BY CHOCOLATE!!!
The chocolate was concealing booze! It was filled with liquid Irish Cream whiskey. That little jerk was trying to trick me into getting drunk! That bastard!
Now, keep in mind that I haven’t had one single drop of alcohol in 4 1/2 years. Not. One. Drop. I have decidedly and purposely and proudly avoided drinking for nearly 5 years, enjoying a life without a fuzzy haze, mornings that did not involve prayers to porcelain Gods, no apologies for embarrassing encounters the night before. Not that I was an alcoholic or had a problem of any kind before, I just had decided that drinking wasn’t for me and I like it that way.
I was so distracted by the burny filling, ruining what was a promising little chocolate, that when I got to the washroom, I forgot to lock the door. Luckily no one came in because they would have seen me making all kinds of stink face.
I feel kind of ripped off. It’s not like I’m drunk at work (unless…wait…blurry vision, vertigo, slurry words, I love everyone sooooo much…that’s not drunk, is it?), but I tasted alcohol and I was hell-bent on never tasting it again.
I’ve been dupped.
Besides, are alcohol-filled chocolates really office appropriate? Probably not.