Katr and I, along with my speculative re-enactment actors Reol and Rebe and some of the Hysteria Festival's other fine female performers, were in beautiful Montreal this past weekend, enthralling the locals with Anne and Diana Were TOTALLY DOING IT and my own unique brand of shitty Western Canadian patois. We had such a fantastic time - the Edgy Women Festival folks were terrific hosts, the audience was enthusiastic, the bartenders poured generously, the post-performance dyke dance included such nostalgic hits as "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" and "Pump Up the the Jam" and, between what seemed like the entire audience lighting up as we took our final bow and the constant indoor fumage every other place we went, I feel I managed to get my full decade's worth of nicotine in. Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Ticking that off the list right now. I may have to go on the patch.
We arrived home yesterday and in an effort to prolong the delightful Frenchosity of my week, today I purchased a few fruity items, a big jug of Tide Free and this chocolate bar at the Fresh Mart:
I know. It looks good, doesn't it? Plus it says "1848" on it. It's historic French chocolate. HOW COULD I BE EXPECTED TO RESIST?
When the bill for my fairly meagre collection of goods came to $34, I chalked it up to the high cost of laundry soap and went on my merry way. It was not until I unloaded the groceries in the kitchen that I happened to look at the price tag on the historic French chocolate. It cost $7.99. That's before tax. WITH tax, this is an $9.18 bar of chocolate.
I like fine things. But as a person without a particularly steady income at the moment, I do try to make discriminating, fiscally responsible shopping choices. And at this point, if I'm going to spend nearly $10 on a BAR of CHOCOLATE - from the goddamn 24 HR FRESH MART - I want it to:
a) be big enough to sail to China on;
b) have a golden ticket in it, as well as gold nuggets, and basically be a whole bar of gold;
c) pay skillful and loving attention to my nether region for several hours; and
d) pick up my goddamn nicotine patch from the drugstore afterwards.
Needless to say, the chocolate bar has done none of these things. It's just sitting there, in my cupboard, being expensive. My question is: what do I do now? Eat it? Bronze it? Whip my pants off and wait for it to work its magique délicieuse? What if it's so delicious I bankrupt myself buying bar after $10 bar? Or worse - what if my $10 bar, with its orange pépites and delicately crushed hazelnuts, just tastes like gritty, gritty ass?
I need some time to think. Suggestions are welcome. Thank you.
