Cellar Party

It was basically a party thrown by some organization my mom belonged to. We walked downstairs to where it was happening. A room with that classic checkered linoleum flooring — essentially the basement, but at least it had some small casement windows near the ceiling.

The food was laid out on long folding tables covered with tablecloths. I was spying the dessert table, no doubt. That’s my home away from home. Of course I didn’t start there, I was a good boy. I had a plate of ham and whatever else they served that night. Nothing spectacular, I mean what do you expect food for fifty to be like? It simply got the job done.

But now it was time. Dessert Time. I’m not a forward fella, but when it comes to dessert, I’ll certainly lead the charge. I sauntered over and took a look. Primarily cookies on plates sitting around one of those stainless steel coffee dispensers. Do I dare? Shall I partake of such delectable treats? Why what do we have here? Some chocolate chip cookies? Haha, you little delights, you look so good tonight.

I picked one up, ready to savor that ooey gooey chocolatey sweetness. I bit down, gently chewing the fine texture… wait. What. Why were these chocolate chips so chewy? And where’s the chocolatey taste? As a matter of fact, these cookies seem awfully granular, not smooth at all. WHAT THE F*CK ARE THESE!!! Blahhhgrgrrr! I spit it out.

I brought the remnants of the cookie over to my mother and told her there was something wrong with it. She informed me it was an oatmeal raisin cookie. Not only that, but there were no chocolate chip cookies on the table AT ALL. I would be going cookie-less and I was not pleased. It was on that day I swore a vendetta against oatmeal raisin cookies — how dare they masquerade as chocolate chip. They were a lie and should not exist!

Ne’er would an oatmeal raisin cookie touch these lips. And not only the cookie, but the raisin itself was mine enemy. Whenever I saw that bonnet wearing Sun-Maid on the red box, I was struck with a tinge of rage as she sat there mocking me. I held that grudge for almost two decades.

It turns out that oatmeal raisin cookies are pretty tasty. I like the cinnamon undertone mixed with the gentle fruity taste of the raisin. Or “dried grape” as I like to think of it. Heck I can even eat a whole box of raisins, although I usually prefer the golden ones. But you see the point right? Why waste so much time and energy being mad at something so silly? Ridiculous right?

Well, unless you’re talking about cheesecake of course. For one, it’s not cake, it’s pie — the cake is a lie. Second, crushed graham-cracker pressed into a pie shape? Filled with cream-cheese? What IS that? Gross! No offense, but cheese does not belong in dessert. Gah, so gross.

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