Yesterday, I ventured into a Schakolad Chocolate Factory store for the very first time. I read the name in an old coupon book and just could not picture what its exact location was, even though I probably passed it 20 million times to the fifth power. How could my car not have automatically tried to nose itself in the parking lot before. When I was stopped at the store, I glanced over and saw an intriguing sign. The name looked like a big blob to me, but I could clearly see “chocolate factory” underneath. This sign MAY look easy to read but from the other side of the parking lot in a strip mall…it just looks like one big brown blob with the chosen font and color. “What does that say? Who cares…it says Chocolate under it.” That is all I needed to know! I didn’t have time on that particular occasion but within a week, I found that my car involuntarily moved into the turn around lane and headed for the motherload.
I was not under any type of adult supervision, so the presidents in my wallet were in grave danger of being orphaned by me. However, the strong sense of duty…in that I needed to get some tags for my license plate…was the only thing that deterred me. There were chocolate pianos, soccer balls, and of course the usual truffles and peanut butter cups. While it was all a feast for the eyes, I was still a little sad. I found out that this place has been in this spot way for quite along time and I have had several years of existence not knowing it existed. What would my life had been? Would I have feverishly saved up my pennies for a weekly visit to dark chocolate antioxidant paradise or would I have still blown it on gasoline for my car?? Who knows what the “alternate present” would have held if my life had taken so divergent with a path with that knowledge in hand. Was I the “bizarro” version of that potential self and the normal me was sitting there laughing, having eaten chocolate mini-pianos every week for the past year?
