The sweetest seduction of all*
By Sheryl-Lee Kerr
(*a favourite column)
I WRITE this while munching on chocolate pretzels, to honor
something called America's “Sweetest Day”, which was on Saturday. It
entails the giving of presents - like chocolate - to people who have been
nice.
Now I know what you're thinking: who thinks up these names? Can we
hurt them?
And, whose crazy idea was it to chocolate-coat pretzels?
Well, I think a better question is: “Hey, who cares? It's
CHOCOLATE.”
I come to be munching on my pretzels courtesy of an American friend,
who sent them from Cleveland, Ohio. Only this week, she finally told me
where she works: a large United States fine chocolate factory. (That thump
you heard was me hitting the floor in a dead swoon.)
My friend had some odd notion that no one takes you seriously when
they find out you work for a chocolate factory - especially one called Fanny
Farmer’s - so she doesn't tell many people what she does.
Now, see, that's just plain wrong. It's men who don't take you
seriously if you work at a chocolate factory. (A beer factory, on the other
hand ...)
Women, by contrast, immediately and earnestly pledge themselves to
your side as personal slaves from now until the Apocalypse.
They may well even sign away their firstborn in exchange for a
week's supply of choc if you ask them at the wrong time of the month.
Why is this so?
I delved into some of Fanny Farmer's chocolate files (no, they are
not edible; I checked) which inform me that “the connection between
chocolate and love is more than myth.
“In fact, chocolate has the right combination of certain chemicals
to simulate the feeling of falling in love, including sugar and the chemical
phenylethlamine, often found in high levels in the blood of people who feel
especially happy or in love.”
Pfft. I could have told you that. Of course, I, personally, would
never eat chocolate as a sex substitute - I merely hear it works for others.
(Which reminds me: Elvis is alive and the moon is made of cheese.)
Women have been using chocolate as a sex substitute for as long as
Peter Reith's phone bill is large.
In fact, a sizeable group of women prefer the chocolate to the real
thing, if a survey of British women in the early-’90s is anything to go by.
If you need further proof: ever tried to get between a woman and her
chocolate? I'm telling you that's more than mere lust going on there.
It's about soul mates locked in a mortal battle.
To intervene is to risk losing a limb. It's grounds for a divorce.
It's just really stupid.
Well, I'd love to chat but I must get back to work: being a
self-pledged personal slave, who has promised her firstborn, has killer
hours.
© The Advertiser & Sheryl-Lee Kerr, 24 OCT 2000