Back story: My fiance is getting tired of me eating her football power bar snacks while I’m in the house. She maintains that they are for out-of-house consumption only.

The chocolate power bars and the like you buy tend to get sacrificed at my altar of chocolate addiction. I eat them because they are there. And they call to me. And there is no other local chocolate alternative. And they are such easy targets. They are slower than me and I can catch them. I am their alpha predator. As an import to my habitat, they have no natural defenses against such an attack. Similarly, since they are not native to my domain, I have no natural defenses against consuming them en masse. It’s a sickness, really. Legions have been slaughtered in my quest for satiety.

At the office I don’t eat chocolate or other junk food. This is largely because here is none save for the occasional celebratory item. Most of the time, people will bring in things they didn’t really like themselves. They place leftovers and rejects out so they can get brownie points for sharing with cube-mates. Such items are not very good so both they and I are safe from this vicious cycle of mutually assured destruction.

All other chocolate sources at the office are protected behind glass vending cages requiring $ to extract. Or a sledgehammer. They’re safe. I have been trained not to buy snacks or destroy office equipment. Trading $ for useless calories to my mind offers a poor exchange rate.

I do run into issues in cubicle land when people bring in tons of leftover Halloween candy. The sit there in stacks or bags ever-present and taunting me with their chocolate-y goodness. You can see the similarities between these defenseless creatures and those cowering in the dark recesses of our cupboard. Mass produced, easily accessible, foil wrapped temptresses.

Out of desperation I have come up with a solution. I bought a bunch of super, super, Ghirardelli Chocolate Intense Dark Chocolate Bars, 86% Cacao Midnight Reverie, 3.17 oz. It’s not sweet and has very little sugar at all. What it does have is roughly 10 billion percent more chocolate than the sickly-sweet tortured dietary milk chocolate those exercise bars come in. The results are amazing. The super dark chocolate satisfies my chocolate craving on small doses. You can literally eat just one. Where it would take an army of kit kats, a square or 2 of dark chocolate will do. I can now pass by defenseless bags of snickers, baby ruths, etc and look down my nose at the inferiority of factory-produced milk chocolate. And we’re all the better for it.

Perhaps it’s not a solution. Perhaps I am only girding myself to a stronger, deeper, more sinister and ultimately more horrifying addiction to dark chocolate. But it’s all I got.

Save your snacks.Add super, crazy dark chocolate to the shopping list.

This missive is brought to you by synapses powered by rich, pure, unadulterated and uncut, Brazilian dark chocolate.

Comments (4)

Alternative solution to binge chocolate consumption: whenever you get new chocolate, take it to work. Hand it out to everyone, starting with the people you hate. Be nice and encourage everyone to take more than one. If you run out of coworkers before you run out of chocolate, the rest is yours 🙂

Think of it as a form of diabetic welfare.

Sinister, Matt! I like it!

Don’t you find the contrasting goals of cubicle world amusing? We have health plans that reimburse you $150 each year if you go to the gym 120 days out of 365. Many companies take out insurance on their employees. Yet, all of the parties they sponsor are fueled by pizza, ice cream, and donuts.

Wow…this was a very helpful post. You see I also am a chocolate killer.

I agreed with the part where you said chocolate called to you and YOU became the alpha predator. I identify with this because it also happens to me. My choice of victim are Hersey’s dark chocolate kisses.

They always come in herds. I always try to attack only one, sparing the rest. Sadly, I cannot. I am too voracious and mean to let the others go free. I sneak back into their feeding grounds and grab a few more and then a few more after that.

My boyfriend usually takes care of this problem, since I have no control, by eventually tossing the whole bag in the trashcan along with lots yucky stuff to ensure I will not pull go after them. I cry for those little lost chocolates, but I also know the predator will return!

I’ll have to give your chocolate a try and see if it works. I must admit, however, I am bit afraid it might be like the stuffed rabbit I gave my dog, which now lies in tatters about the house…not quite the same, but, then again, safer for all:~)

Hey, Sara! Thanks for the great comment! The imagery of the sacrificial bunny is priceless. It’s good to know I’m not alone here! Although, to extend your metaphor: I hunt not the weakones of the pack first. I choose the strongest, most able, most vibrant as my prey. But, much the same as you describe, the entire herd will be eventually slaughtered to sake my need for chocolate unless there is a divine intervening hand. Like my wife. Or shame of public humiliation!

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