Get that raspberry crap OFF my cheesecake!

I love sweets. Seriously, I LOVE THEM! I don't share desserts.

REPEAT: I DO NOT SHARE DESSERTS!!!!!!

God help you if you try to sneak some of my cheesecake or chocolate chip cookie or brownie. There will be hell to pay. And hell hath no fury like a woman denied her sweet tooth.

This brings me to an event that no doubt everyone has experienced. You're at a restaurant. You've eaten your meal and the waiter has refilled your wine glass and offers coffee and dessert. You decide to indulge. Especially after you see that they have your favorite dessert, in this case cheesecake, on the menu tonight. You order excitedly, almost giddy with anticipation of what is coming to your table shortly. The waiter exits the kitchen. He is holding the tray on his shoulder so you can't see it but you are still salivating from the thought of your creamy, delicious, sweet yet with a slight tang, and decadent New York Style cheesecake coming your way. He carefully places the plate in front of you and you smile eagerly at him and your meal companion.

Then you look at your plate.

And it looks like someone murdered a fairy on it. How else can you explain the puddle of red, gloppy goo that your wonderful cheesecake is sitting in?

"Excuse me, but there's red stuff on my plate," you say to the waiter as politely as possible.

"Oh, that's our special raspberry coulis. It's dee-lightful."

"Yeah, well, it looks dee-sgusting."

"Try it, I swear, it's like nothing you've ever had."

"If I wanted my cheesecake sitting in raspberry gunk I would have said so. Can I get one that didn't contribute to the deaths of hundreds of young berries?"

I understand that some people like raspberries. I do. My issue is that a lot of times, the restaurants don't tell you that they're soaking your dark chocolate mousse cake in something that looks like stage blood from a production of Sweeney Todd. If you tell me, I'll ask for no sauce. And don't give me crap about it. If I wanted it, I wouldn't ask for it to not be there.

I don't like fruit in dessert at all. If I wanted something healthy and good for me, I wouldn't be eating dessert. So save your raspberry coulis, strawberry shortcake, apple pie and blueberry crumble for the confused souls that don't get the dessert is supposed to be sinful and orgasmic, not wholesome and nutritious.

Pineapple.

Dear Pineapple,

I should like you. I should. You are sweet and just a little bit tart. You are exactly the kind of fruit that I like.

If only you didn't have those damn strings.

I got braces put on junior year of high school and didn't get them taken off until spring break of freshman year of college. As a result, I'm really weird about stuff between my teeth. I've been known to leave the table mid-meal to floss. It really drives me that crazy.

However, I don't remember EVER liking you.

I think it has to do that with the fact that you stab people when they pick you up.

It's a sign, people! When something stabs you, you should put it down. YOU DEFINITELY NOT EAT IT.

So, pineapple, I at one time I thought it was your stringy-ness but not you flavor so I got some pineapple juice. Still gross. Can't do it.


I leave you with this:
In high school I remember overhearing some girls of, um, "ill repute" (read: skanks) talking about eating lots of you because it was supposed to make them taste better. I still don't know what to say about that and I now understand what they were talking about.

Maybe I'm so emotionally, mentally and physically scarred from pineapple that my body can't tolerate it.

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