Soap

I suppose I could blame it on hunger.

They are tons of shitty jobs in the world. Handing out leaflets to New Yorkers is one of them. Or trying to. Especially on the Upper West Side. That's why I usually take them. Make someone happy. Sometimes I remember to trash it a couple blocks away, but most of the time I absentmindedly shove it in my pocket and forget about it until a few weeks later I have to empty them to find something because it's such a mess in there.

I could also blame it on excitement I suppose. Because I carry two CDs from the band of a very good friend of mine and I can't wait to be home and listen to them.

To my defense, I'll stress that it did look like caramel, with its transparent plastic wrapping.

I'm very fond of caramel.

The girl looked desperate with her wicker basket full of those candy looking stuff in front of that fancy store, offering her free samples to well-dressed people ignoring her.

I'm pretty sure also I was trying to find a way to outsmart the MTA and their fucked up weekend schedules.

So, yeah, sure, I'll take one. She looked happy. Mission accomplished. Now rush on to the subway station.

I swear it did look like a caramel candy.

And really from the wrapper, you couldn't tell what the fuck it was.

Somehow, I must not be as dumb as I think because I took a tiny bite. But that was enough to make me realize my mistake.

From the title, you know what it was. Fucking fancy soap. Damn, it really doesn't taste good. Word to the wise guy: in case one day your plane crashes on a mountain or something and you're freezing and starving and you have half a mind of starting eating the bar soap from your suitcase -- don't laugh, when you're starving, everything looks way more edible and even tastier than usual. Well, don't. Start with your fellow survivors first. Keep the soap for dessert.