that divine dark lump of brown sludge

The way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.
~ Oscar Wilde

Once again I have been reminded that it’s the small and sinful pleasures that titillate the most.

I simply stepped out for my mid-afternoon cup of coffee and within a matter of minutes I was floating, riding upon a wild flood of endorphins. Minute, practically imperceptible things, piqued me in the most salacious, lubricious, lascivious and wanton of ways (I just like those words).

These included: beholding a well-breasted woman in her summer sheath (here is a perfect example of where earnest lust overwhelms pretense and decorum—forgive me father for I have sinned), indulging in the chagrin from the cashier as I handed her twenty pennies and eight dimes, the uplifting chime of my chuckle escaping as I read this week’s Onion Headline: CIA Asks Bush to Discontinue Blog; and, with a touch of miserly avarice, purchasing “Running with Scissors” by Augusten Burroughs from the local street merchant, upon a whim no less, and more over, for half-the-price.

But perhaps the most pleasing of all these guilty little deeds was what has recently become a daily ritual for me. Around 2:22 every workday I unstrap the fetters of duty that obligate me to my desk and whisk across the street to the ol’ local Tastee Delite.

Scooting past the usual line of 3 or 4 patrons eagerly awaiting to order their 4 to 8 ounces of non-fat (10 calories per ounce) frozen yogurt, I reach in to grab a small blue cup out of the dispenser, slip on the recycled-brown sleeve and slide on over to the coffee condiments counter. There, with a little snidely smirk, I jerk open the spoon-dipping side of the cocoa and quickly pour about a quarter of the container’s contents into the cup. Amusingly enough, I self-consciously position myself to abscond my gluttony, so that the clerks cannot see me thwarting their expectations—the presumption that the average consumer will use the side with the holes and not sabotage the supply-to-demand ration they have calculated in order to ensure a measly profit and pay the exorbitant Park Avenue rent.

Oh well, I just can’t see myself “sprinkling” just a little chock-o-lit in. Besides, surely my loyalty is worth more than a few cents off that dollar I spend there everyday.

And one more thing, if I didn’t just pour it in, I would be able to indulge in scooping out that divine dark lump of brown sludge left at the bottom of my cup after the last slurp.

“..the simple pleasure of being able to do as one pleases without worrying overmuch about social repercussions is self-evident…also eccentrics draw strength and joy from their sense of humor. They themselves stressed to us time and again that humor and laughter were essential for their sense of well-being and their self-esteem in an increasingly dreary, conformist world. It also proved to be the means by which they could make light of their personal failings. Their playful attitude toward life became more and more valuable to them as their lives progressed.”


~ Dr. David Weeks and Jamie James,
Eccentrics, A Study of Sanity and Strangeness

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this musing and foto are featured as part of 100 NY Stories (High), book sixteen of the lost man chronicles.