Instant Gratification

This morning on my way for my morning cup of coffee I noticed an open box of Lindt chocolate. I have never been one to pass up an unattended open box of chocolates- so I took a tiny little sliver of this seemingly decadent rich chocolate and popped it in my watering mouth. To my surprise my expectant taste buds were met not with a smooth sensual 'party in the mouth' but a powdery, thick, chalky and overall disgusting sensation of pure unsweetened cocoa. Since it dissolved so quickly, I had to experience this feeling of dirt crammed down my oesophagus. I marched into the room of the owner of the chocolate and demanded an explanation...

I like my chocolate to be instantaneously gratifying. I don't care about the health benefits of that disgusting chocolate, nor does it matter that its what all those skinny people in France enjoy. No, I want to shove it into my mouth and have it taste good now.

I never liked Target stores for one reason. When you wanted to return an item, the customer care system involved taking a number. I HATE TAKING NUMBERS! I would rather stand in a line and wait with the others in full view of how much longer I have. Maybe its the logic of the insane, but since I can see the woman with her cart stuffed with things to return and the man with only a blender to take back, I can somehow prepare myself for the wait. But if you tell me to take a number and to take a seat I somehow can't tell how long I must wait. I can't nudge the slowpoke to take the next teller. I must just be patient.

Telling me to be patient rips my insides like vulture ripping open its prey. It hurts. Because I am working on it. I try breathing. I try focusing on something else. I try to practice my 'stop him with a single glance' smile. But I like instant gratification too much if I am perfectly honest and so I'll lose the patience I once claimed...