I feel a sense of guilt as I cast a wistful glance at the sign. A glance turns into an abrupt turn, and I find myself speeding up to the counter. "Love it Godiva Chocolate with double Reese's peanut butter cup and whip cream please" I blurt out like an expert. 2 minutes later I am up on my couch with my eyes closed, savoring every delectable bite. I finish and furrow my brow to try and prevent the guilt from rushing in. It's not guilt over the calories, although that sucks also. I hate Cold Stone Creamery because of a few incidents between us.
Summer 2006, the day of the annual Luge Party. I pull into my condo building with a pre-carved luge in the trunk. It dawns on me that the luge has already begun the melting process, and its 7 hours until the first shot will be delivered off its icy post-carved surface. Cold Stone Creamery is located on the ground floor on my building, mere steps from the main entrance. I walk in and see one of the co-owners of the store, who also lives in the building. I exchange a quick pleasantry and then explain my plight-
Me - "Hi, I've seen you a few times in the elevator. I live in Millennium Centre also, how's it going?"Cold Stone Creamery female owner - "Pretty good. How can I help you?"Me - "I have an interesting scenario. I'm throwing a party tonight on the pool deck. I bought an ice luge for the party, but it is already starting to melt. Can I store the luge in your cooler?"Her - "What's a luge?"
I explain what a luge is. She replies "I'm sorry, its a health hazard to have a block of ice in our cooler." What! A cooler that is filled with ICE and ICE cream, and it will be unhealthy to have more ice in it? I storm out furious and rush to the grocery store to buy ice to keep my ice luge iced. I vow never again to go to Cold Stone.
Months pass and I smirk in defiant willpower as I pass Cold Stone Creamery each day. No way in hell will I go in there. Soon a year has passed, I have spent a fun day partying on the pool deck, someone mentions ice cream and I decide I have punished the place enough.
We enter into Cold Stone Creamery. I see the other co-owner, the husband of the "ice luge health hazard" excuse lady. I place my order. Damn it looks good on the cold stone while they are smashing in my mix-ins. I see that while my coffee with heath bar mix-in looks good, why not splurge another 50 cents and get another heath bar tossed in.
Me - "Man, that heath looks good. Can you toss another one in there?"Cold Stone Creamery Male Owner - "Sure thing! Put on as many as you want, its more money in my pocket!"
What an ass. I am not implying I should get a free mix-in. But this guy was in absolute glee over the thought of taking my additional 50 cents for a mix-in. I walk out of there irritated that I would break my willpower and go back to that place. Although my coffee with double heath bar mix-in almost caused me to black out from taste bud sensory overload. I make a new vow. Never again go to Cold Stone!
My Resolve Weakens
Of course, as time passes, things get tricky. I keep passing Cold Stone 3-6 times a day. My anger softens. I tell why I refuse to go to Cold Stone, but my heart isn't in it. Ironically, the day a true competitor appears 1/2 block away starts the crack in my resolve.
We go into Berry Chill Couture, a "hip" new ice cream or yogurt place of some kind. I say this because when you walk in, all of the mix-ins are displayed as icons floating on a plasma above the cash register. This is disorientating to say the least. The place looks and feels a little claustrophobic. Plus the ultra-picky fiancee is grumbling she doesn't like something about the place. So we hastily leave. However, I am now craving ice cream. The options are discussed and we buy ice cream, hot fudge, whip cream, and mix-ins and make our sundae. It tastes good, but it was a lot of work and time, and city people want satisfaction immediately and without effort.
The Inevitable Cave-In
A few days go by and I need ice cream. I don't really even want it, but I envision the flavors in my mouth and that's it, I'm a goner, gotta have it. The thought of waiting in line at Jewel to get ice cream sounds awful. So now its down to what matters more, my vow of anti-Cold Stone vs. my laziness to fetch and make my own sundae.
I feel a slight sense of anxiety as I walk in, as though the ice cream clerk will shout "Look everybody, he's back at Cold Stone!" But no one says a thing as I order the Godiva chocolate with Reese's peanut butter cup and whip cream. As if repeating the past, I blurt out "add another Reese's". The owners are nowhere in site, and the clerk rings up my order without incident. And the ice cream is unbelievably good, I am literally exclaiming "Oh God" multiple times while I eat it. I being to understand why females crave chocolate, and I feel my X (female) chromosome give silent thanks. My ancient grudge against Cold Stone has been put to rest just in time for summer.