Things that don’t mix with chocolate
I just got home from a cruise, which means I have a mountain of laundry, a thousand unanswered emails, and no one to shape my hand towels into cute little animal figures.
I had one of those Janette Rallison moments on my cruise. Although technically speaking, it wasn’t my fault.
On the first day, the cruise held a welcome barbecue out by the pool. (Loud music, people chatting and laughing.) After I ate dinner, I went back for a brownie and noticed a tub of brown liquid by the brownie plate. Okay, in retrospect the tub of brown liquid was also by the ketchup and mustard, but I was only paying attention to the brownies at that point.
I put a brownie on my plate, pointed to the tub of brown liquid and asked Martino, the guy standing behind said objects, “Is that hot fudge?”
It was, after all, the logical conclusion. Brownies + hot fudge = joy.
Martino nodded and said, “Yes.”
I didn’t take into account that it was noisy outside and English probably wasn’t Martino’s first language. I happily ladled a spoonful of brown liquid onto my brownie.
Again in retrospect, Martino’s startled expression probably should have tipped me off. But no, I walked back to my chair and took a big bite of my brownie. Which was completely covered in barbecue sauce. Then I spit the bite back onto my plate and did a really elegant gagging-wiping-my-tongue-off thing as I tried to get rid of the taste of barbecue and brownie.
So it turns out you can’t mix chocolate with anything and make it taste better.
Martino walked by me a few minutes later, keeping an eye on me like I was clearly crazy.
It was a totally unfair reaction, since he was the one who told me it was hot fudge in the first place. I dub it a Martino moment.
More on the cruise life next blog.
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I remember I was on a cruise where the worker I was speaking to didn’t speak a whole lot of English. I tried explaining to him that I wanted the drink of the day, but I wanted it without the added alcohol. After a lot of language bumbling, I figured out that he was basically trying to tell me that the entire drink of the day WAS alcohol and wasn’t something like a virgin strawberry daiquiri where you could just remove the alcohol. Too bad so many other people had to get involved in the conversation to help me see what he was trying to say, since I would have preferred to have been embarrassed alone … 🙂
I’m pretty sure I’ve had the same conversation on more than one occasion. Luckily I figured out that on the airplane, I can ask for spicy tomato instead of asking for a bloody mary without the blood or the mary. (It sounds like such a vampire drink.)
Ha! Thanks for the chuckle, Janette. That is a great story.
It reminds me of the story I shared on my blog recently of what I mistook for toothpaste!
http://erinshakespear.blogspot.com/2013/04/m-is-for-mundane.html
🙂
Oy! All things in a tube are not equal.
That’s awesome. I’ll remember not to put BBQ sauce on my brownies when we finally get on our cruise later this summer!
LOL!!! I once ate a heaping spoonful of hot fudge… which turned out to be barbecue sauce too.
Also, I’ve brushed my teeth with diaper rash cream thinking it was toothpaste. This episode I blame on first-baby utter sleep deprivation 🙂
The first one on gluttony 🙂
Heather, just make sure you ask the people what it is as opposed to asking them yes or no questions.
Yamile, I’m glad it’s not just me.
Janette, you lead such an interesting life, not only in this century, but in the fictional past.
I’ve taken Grahampage’s example and put up a risky linky-type post on my blog.
I hope I don’t get banned, too!
Always a fun story on Janette Rallison’s blog!
Oh, that is horrific! Blech! My taste buds ache for you. =(