Death by Chocolate. No, quite literally.

So this is one of the (many, many) lets-laugh-at-PV jokes that people told at my farewell in the last company. This is my version and the correct version, don’t let anybody else tell you otherwise.

This was about three months into my very first job (in the aforementioned company) and my dear TL, Manjeet Singh, decided to have lunch with his all-girls team :P (I’m already laughing at how this sounds to the outsider and how far from the truth that impression is, but I’m not going to correct the impression because I like being mean to Manjeeta. Heehee. Hopefully, he will never read his or I’m going to get thwacked). Lunch is at a pub, I didn’t know what to order (yes, a girl from the semi-village took some time to learn how to order. Go on, laugh at me.) Conversation is strained with my friend because I stood her up and I wasn’t really on chatting terms with the rest of the team (yes, I was chronically socially awkward. Still am, a lot of times). Needless to say, the exercise was one of extreme discomfort on my part and stomach cramps did nothing to alleviate the situation.

Till somebody said ‘dessert’.

I jumped at the chance but unfortunately, no one else did because a) they had ordered sensibly and b) they had ordered sensibly. At my downcast face, my friend said she’d shared dessert with me and I didn’t wait for her to ask twice (which in hindsight, I should have).

The innocuous-looking item on the menu turning out to be half a pound of chocolate cake, the moment it turned the corner and headed towards our table, I knew I was in trouble. BUT I was comforted by the fact that my friend was going to share it.

Everyone was suitably impressed by the space I’d left for dessert in my stomach, including Manjeeta, and I smiled and waved and took a couple of bites of the cake. Bits of chocolate heaven, no doubt about it. Things were quite okay till my dear friend decided she’d had enough, after only three tiny bites. I was aghast, how was I going to eat all that cake by myself?!! (no, the thought of having it packed in a doggie bag and taking it home to eat later when I would have actually enjoyed it did not cross my extremely intelligent (please get the sarcasm) mind) 

So I hitched up my pants, rolled up my sleeves and slogged through the whole damn half a pound cake.

Needless to say the last bite was the last ever bite of chocolate cake I’ve taken since (not really, but dramatic effect is necessary no?). Needless to say I was just about holding it together till I got home and cried out chocolate cake.

Needless to say, learn how to say no before you let chocolate cake be the death of you.
Or just ask for a damn doggie bag.

Over. And Out.