Splenda: The Redheaded Stepchild of Delicious

So I was thinking about it this morning, and I have some habits I could work on. I guess going away for a weekend, eating only foods made of "this makes me a fat kid" and drinking only liquids filled with "OH MY GOD I FEEL AMAZING/i'm so tired...i'm so tired...what happened?" will make you consider some changes in your diet. So I did what anyone would do in this situation: I thought about the least amount of commitment I could put forward while still generally feeling good about the fact that I was at least trying (like a true fat kid! so I knew I was on the right track). The daily coffee routine seemed like a good start.

Instead of waiting the five blocks it takes to get to work, I like to irrationally spend money everyday and get my morning cup from the Starbucks downstairs. Before you start, no...this is not because I like Starbucks. And I agree, I may as well boil hot water, walk outside, pickup some dirt from the ground and chuck it in the cup. But you know what? It, just like any other cup of coffee, has a magical unicorn in it called "caffeine", so personally I'm fine with it. I also only go here because sometimes the chick behind the counter is kind of hot and because I'm male and fall into dumb patterns, I imagine she hopes I come in everyday so we can laugh at how adorable I look when I'm tired. Turns out she just never talks to me and I lose two bucks. It's like a lotto ticket, but way less fun.

So after asking the hot chick for my cup today, I stare at her and say nothing (standard), she looks at me because my mouth is awkwardly wide open and I look stupid (standard) and I realize I've lost the battle with her again and go on my merry way. However, today I'm feeling good because today, I've decided, is where it's all gonna change...I'm going to change my ONE packet of sugar with splenda! TA DAH! Forget routine exercise, THIS is the answer to any weight gain problems.

So let me tell you something. Splenda advertises that it tastes like sugar, but it's not sugar. And you know what it doesn't taste like? Good. They should sure tell you that part. And I'm not sure where the makers of Splenda grew up, but sugar doesn't taste like, "please get that out of my mouth." So here's the best part. I realize, after my mind spins through this witty, "and what's the deal with splenda?" Seinfeld-ism, that I should share this with the barista. I'll woo her with humor. She won't know what hit her. BAM. Romance. Ready? Here's the magic that goes down.

Drew: "I don't get why old people steal Splenda and hide it in their purses. It's terrible and tastes like crap."

Hot Barista: "What?"

Drew: "Oh, I just said that splenda is bad and old people steal it." (Drew's inner monologue: "Please stop talking, Drew. Please.")

Hot Barista: "Oh. Did someone just steal splenda?"

Drew: "Oh no. Not at all."

Hot Barista: "Oh. I don't get it."

Drew: "Thanks for the coffee!" (paces away awkwardly, runs into the old guy in line, drops his sunglasses on ground)

I blame this entire interaction on changing from sugar to Splenda. It has nothing to do with my game or my ability to talk to girls in any way.

So fuck you, Splenda. You don't taste like sugar, you taste like stupid. And guess what? I'm gonna romance the shit out of sugar tomorrow. It makes me happier and totally puts out.

On that note, seeing as this foiled my whole diet, I'll be going to Pizzeria Delfina tonight. The waitresses are hot there too, so hopefully I can say something really witty about olive oil and how silly it is that it doesn't taste like olives. (AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT??)

Drew Hoolhorst

San Francisco, CA 94110, USA

I have a black belt in feelings.