Sometimes You Just Go For It

Friday was our marketing director's last day at work, so we all chipped in to get a massive, seven-pound chocolate-chocolate-chocolate cake from Costco. I loaded the cake into my car and headed back to work, and several minutes later, I noticed a questionable brown smear on my right palm.

Hmmm.

You're probably thinking, why would a brown smear on my palm give me pause, but think about it. I know I had to think about it. What if, just what if I assumed it was chocolate, licked it, and it turned out I had made a horrible mistake?

I didn't have anything handy to wipe it on, and besides, if it was chocolate, I didn't want to waste it by wiping it on a napkin or something. But what if it wasn't chocolate...

I seriously debated for a long time about this. Several factors came into play: when did I go to the bathroom last? (Before lunch, so at least two hours ago). Did I wash my hands? (yes, but it's possible I just did the quick once-over rinse and missed a spot). Is it possible I'd been going around with a poo smear on my hand for nearly two hours? (possible). How many other countless things had I touched in the last two hours that I could have potentially smeared poo/chocolate on? (clothes, face, hair - a quick body scan yielded no stray stains). Did I dare just go for it and lick my palm so that I wouldn't risk wasting chocolate? (not just yes, but hell yes).

I brought my palm to my face and smelled. No odor indicating one way or the other. Hmmm. I closed my eyes and tentatively stuck out the tip of my tongue, knowing full well what I risked to lose here.

I can't describe the relief I felt when I tasted chocolate. I swear my heart stopped and then skipped a beat in those seconds leading up to Chocolate Realization. Because let's be honest, it could have gone either way.

Then I went to town licking all up on my hand. I hope I was entertaining for the people in the car next to me.