Okay, today at Costco I purchased a bag of shelled pistachio nuts. Why? Don't know. I think the idea of pre-shelled pistachios really appealed to my sense of profound laziness. I don't have to ruin my nails prying them apart. I don't have to stain my fingers with that weird pink color that they use. What's up with that anyway? I don't have to open them only to find one of every three or so looking a little sketchy and me wondering about it....not enough to NOT eat it, but wondering nevertheless...
So, I opened the bag, but first I did my delayed gratification thing. I left it on the counter for several hours. I let my hunger for them build. I walked past them and picked up the bag to feel their nutty contents. Why? Because I'm weird. And that's good enough for me.
When the bag was opened the smell was heavenly. Whoever thought this smell would translate to an ice cream flavor was...um....creative, ice cream is the furthest thing from my mind when I smell pistachios.
Anyway, I scooped my cupped palm in there and thus began a hedonistic indulgence which I am paying for now. I'm sorry. I'm very very sorry to the pistachio powers that be. I realize there is a reason for the shells. The allow us to practice restraint. They allow us to eat slowly. We fill up more slowly and are sated at a quicker rate with less food in our silly stomachs. But not when they're shelled. No....oh no no no...we scoop up handfuls of those little beasts and throw them into our mouths with reckless abandon.
"Ahhh...." we laugh, "This is the life of Riley" we chuckle to ourselves as we gobble up the pre-shelled, pre-worked-, restraint-removed snack food. Shelled pistachios are this culture's symbol of eating peeled grapes. Hedonistic reckless abandon.
Um....for a Mormon...maybe...or it could just be me....
Whatever....I'm going to bed.....
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1 comment:
i o.d.'d on almond joy pieces. your heart probably likes you better than mine likes me.
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