Dirt, germs, and social acceptance can’t stop a woman from satisfying her sweet tooth.
Chocolate chip cookies have been saving women, and the world, since 1892. With its sugary decadence and buttery taste, a good cookie can pull a woman out of a dating-induced depression and get her to forget about the man who didn’t respond to her last email. It’s no overstatement when I say that the joys of a phenomenal baked good are incomparable.
Just the thought of tasting a savory treat can reduce a woman’s mental capacity to the point that taste buds are the sheer driving force behind all decision processes. Brain function seems to stop at the sight of a half-eaten cookie or brownie left behind. Some would see such a vision and question how anyone could leave greatness on a plate – others take matters into their own hands.
How far would you go for a chocolate chip cookie? Would you reach over to a table previously filled by strangers and partake in sloppy seconds? Would you do that for a brownie? No? Then you’re not one of the women who sat next to me the other night.
Yes, when the stick thin men left their table after barely eating a marble brownie (the best one in New York City, I might add) and a chocolate chip cookie, I looked over longingly and with jealousy. My friends and I had ordered the cookie-brownie combo many times before and hadn’t left a crumb, yet tonight – a night when we’d get neither – they could leave it all. Amateurs.
Did I think about sneaking a bite? Perhaps for a minute, or five, but I would never touch one piece of secondhand bakery deliciousness. I have standards for shit’s sake! I left both items looking oh so sad and alone on their white plates (where they belonged) and went back to conversation.
I can’t say the same for everyone in the restaurant.
About six minutes after the men departed, four women staged a coup d’état of restaurant etiquette. They, too, had witnessed the reckless abandonment of baked goods in disgust but couldn’t bear to watch dessert go to waste – not when they were pining for something chocolatey. They inquired about the leftovers, to which the waitress gave an unlikely response, “A good brownie shouldn’t be left behind. Take it.”
Little could prepare me for the event that was about to happen.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an outstretched arm reach across the table and capture the goods. My table watched in disgust as the women took both desserts hostage. Respectfully, they offered us half the booty, but we politely refused while vomiting in our mouths. Is our economy so bad that four women can’t spend four dollars to get their own brownie?
I was doubly mortified. First off, who leaves dessert? Secondly, who steals dessert off the table of complete strangers? Not this girl.
As we continued to watch the scavengers investigate their newly found prey, my sister noticed a straw wrapper sitting atop the brownie – an excellent Perry Masonesque pickup on her part. One would think this piece of trash would have prevented future consumption, but no. They ate the recycled brownie covered with an hour’s worth of stranger germs and trash with a smile and without so much as a flinch.
Apparently, two men’s waste is four women’s treasure.
