Sour horrors

I have a small addiction to sour things. Sour Patch Kids, margaritas, sour Icebreakers. In fact I used to eat sour Icebreakers until my tongue was burning and my taste buds were inflamed. It's a problem, I know.

I have since banned myself from those fun little Icebreaker hockey-puck like packages. As for Sour Patch Kids, I only like the greens and yellows, so that keeps me mostly on the wagon. But wouldn't you know it, an obstacle crashed into the path of my sour sobriety this week. And it's name is Sour Skittles. (Find an idea for my birthday present here) They are extremely sour with just a hint of sweet. They are chewy but not gummy. They are the ideal sour thing.

I stumbled upon these sour bits of heaven while perusing the lone vending machine in our building. I quickly set about polishing off the supply. There were only a few bags. Lurking behind them were a row of Twix. I thoroughly enjoyed the couple bags until there was just one left in the row.

Yesterday afternoon, I had a craving for sourness, so I headed down the hall with one semi-smooth dollar bill. I fed it into the machine and selected D6, my mouth already watering in anticipation of the sour assault. And then....horror of horrors...the bag got stuck.

I began jostling the machine, shaking it, bumping my shoulder against it. Anything to get my sour fix! Then I realized this was a little sad and a lot embarrassing, so I slunk back to my office in defeat.

Today, my sour craving was back, and this time I decided I would buy a Twix to get my sweet sourness. But like salt in my wound, my Sour Skittles bag was gone and only Twix remained.

I imagine someone was quite delighted when they got a double dose of candy this morning. Jerk.

Sometimes life just isn't fair.

--MM