Right. So this is my punishment for the incident that happened on Friday. Let me paint you a picture with words.
It was a beautiful Friday afternoon. I got out of work at 1:00 PM because my stuff was being moved to a new cubicle. After eating a lunch of shrimp and red pepper soup, I was off to Whole Foods. As I walked in, I was quivering with anticipation at the thought of beholding a bounty of delicious soups. I was distracted, and that was when it happened. A delicious, manly yellow pile of pineapple sample chunks appeared before me in a very aggressive fashion. I was powerless to ignore it, and I was thinking about soup. What kinds would there be? How many would I get? I was drunk with thoughts of soup, so when I approached the pineapple and it was so nice, so understanding, so much the opposite of the last fruit I had many moons ago, I unconsciously gave in to its desire to be eaten. Something about what was happening didn’t feel right. It felt WRONG, but also so good. I chewed the pineapple and proceeded through the produce section to the area where the hot soups were located. I knew the pineapple would be gone soon, and although I was sad, I knew it was for the best. I can’t hold on to something in my mouth that longs to be free, free to be digested by my stomach and intestines. So I gave in. I swallowed. It was over. The pineapple was gone, but I knew what we had experience was special, somehow, in its own way. And that is how the pineapple came on to me.
I would also like to point out that Mike also cheated did not receive anywhere near the verbal chastising I did. I implored my heartless friends to leave me with my guilt, but they demanded that I be punished. “Isn’t eating only soup punishment enough?” I argued. Apparently not. I would again like to disagree, as this was my lunch today:
The above bowl is filled with brandied wild mushroom soup, and it is disgusting. Per usual, after the first bite I tried to convince myself that it was actually good. It was not. It mostly tasted like pureed mushrooms with mushroom chunks, mostly. I did not find that taste appealing. As I tried to convince myself to eat it, I made the mistake of wondering what would happen if I moved my spoon back and forth in the soup. What happened was it grossed me out by jiggling like Jell-o. Aaaand I was out. As Mike kindly pointed out, if I am only eating soup, it should at least be GOOD soup!
I do believe that soup, along with the cream of spinach and mushroom, was punishment enough. I spent $14 on those two damn soups, one of which I gave to David, who cockily thinks he will eat it tonight and it will be delicious even though he refused to even try it at lunch today. We’ll just see what he says about that gross soup!