I wrote a post a few months ago detailing why I am not really a big fan of dogs. I was well aware that it would be an unpopular post at the time, but I just needed to put it out there.
Today, I am going to make a similar post that will also probably go against the general public opinion.
I don’t really like ice cream.
For years, I have never been vocal regarding my unfavorable view towards ice cream. Instead, I just looked at it as one of those things that I was “never really in the mood for.” But after 10 consecutive years of not being in the mood, I think it’s safe to say that I just flat-out don’t enjoy it.
As a youngster, sure, I would line up with my friends outside the Mr. Softee truck on a hot day and order myself a bowl of vanilla ice cream with butterscotch topping. And of course, following a little league game, I wasn’t going to be that one introvert who declined when the coach offered to take us all to Carvel. But after that, there’s never really been a time in my life when I said, “You know what would really hit the spot right now? Ice cream.”
But that didn’t mean that I was going to write it off forever. In fact, on Wednesday night, I had a milkshake. For the first time in about 10 years, I was strongly craving one. I’ve been a bit under the weather for the last few days, and figured I could use the pick-me-up. So I trekked down to my local Carvel and purchased myself a Cookies n’ Cream Carvelanche.
I’m not going to lie, it was pretty damn good. I’m not a sadist enough to not acknowledge that ice cream at least tastes good. While I was consuming the shake, and the ice cream and milk was flowing down my gullet, I’ll admit that it was very enjoyable. I felt like how Adam and Eve did while eating the Forbidden Fruit. Except I wasn’t wearing leaves over my privates. But as soon as I was done with it, I was instantly reminded as to why I hadn’t eaten ice cream in the better part of a decade.
Too often I find myself overeating during dinner, only to hate myself thirty minutes later, when I feel like a hippopotamus is residing in my stomach. Well, after eating that Carvelanche, I felt that same exact way times 10. Because, at least with dinner, you can’t be too mad at yourself since it’s a socially acceptable meal. We need dinner. It’s a traditional and even necessary occasion in which to consume lots of food.
But there is never a socially acceptable time to eat ice cream. In the history of the world, not once has there been an instance where somebody needed ice cream to improve their health. Ice cream has never once been an antidote. It is only — and will always be only — an additional snack that somebody eats because they crave sugary deliciousness.
And on late Wednesday night, as the ice cream, milk, syrup and cookie residue floated around in my stomach, I hated myself more than ever before.
They say the worst moment in a man’s life is when he realizes he’s sold his soul and traded in everything that he’s believed in. Because without your morals and beliefs, you have nothing. Well that’s how I felt after eating the ice cream. I make a fairly concerted effort not to necessarily eat healthy all the time, but just to not eat like shit. So that pretty much eliminates two things from my diet permanently — fast food and ice cream. Well, on this day, I relapsed.
It made me wonder how regular ice cream eaters can live with themselves. And I don’t even mean that on an emotional level, but on a physical level. The actual ice cream sitting in my stomach physically made it difficult for me to do anything besides lie on my bed and wait for me to digest. For the time being, I was essentially a beached whale.
So in the end, I think it is going to be a long time until I eat ice cream again. And trust me, I’m not some health nut. I’m not one of those guys who carries around protein bars and deprives themselves of carbs. I eat pretty horribly when you compare my diet with people who actually do eat well. But the feeling of remorse, regret and apathy that comes with eating ice cream is just too much for me to handle.
Yeah, I’m going to eat ice cream again tomorrow, aren’t I?