Crash

Apparently this is the week where I get all that irony that's been lacking in my diet. Last night, some asshole who had done laps in patchouli before coming downtown was wearing a "No Bio-Terror Lab" sticker.
One of the bands that played brought a big box of individually wrapped candies and left it on their merch table, so I ate around eight or ten Bit-O-Honeys in addition to my usual couple of beers. At the end of the night I felt like my teeth were wearing individual sweaters. I have a weird thing about sweets. I am totally picky about chocolate. I never eat any generic,foil-wrapped, holiday-shaped anything. I don't really like Nestle chocolate at all, though Butterfinger remains one of the best things ever created, in my opinion. I like Hershey's just fine, although any more I don't care for milk chocolate at all. And I can take or leave (though I almost always leave) Dove and Cadbury. I am a huge fan of both Lindt and Green and Black's, even though they tend to be a bit pricey. I would rather have a very small amount of very good chocolate than a whole mountain of the cheap stuff.
It's the same with cakes, cookies and pastries. I am rarely tempted by grocery store sheet cake, boxed brownies or packaged and chemical laden cookies.
But man, when it comes to Willy Wonka and his ilk, I can't seem to get enough. Smarties, Sweet Tarts, candy necklaces, Wacky Wafers, Laffy Taffy- you name it, I'll eat it. And last night I ate every Bit-O-Honey in that box. The other bartender, my good friend J, had also raided the box. At the end of the night, while we were breaking down the bar, he was walking toward me when he stumbled a little and stopped, looking like he might fall over.

"Are you okay?" I asked him. I knew he couldn't possible be drunk.

"I think I'm crashing from all that sugar."

Man, how do we survive this rock and roll lifestyle?