Men Are Like Candy Bars
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree and Rising.
I was told 10 days ago that I should blog about candy bars. I have no idea why. In particular, how men are like candy bars. Go figure.
Today, it hit me—or maybe I was just hungry.
It’s not so much how men are like candy bars but my taste in men is similar to my taste in candy bars.
When I was a kid, I had various afterschool functions to attend. Music lessons, choir practice, etc. I attended a small college-prep school an hour’s bus ride from home, so by the time I lugged my 40 pounds of books off the bus in the afternoon, we usually had about 15 minutes to make it to the church for practice. Because supper wouldn’t be for several more hours and I’d always be famished by then and arriving too late to the church to enjoy a snack with the other kids who went the local school, I’d often get a drink and a candy bar to “tide me over” until I could get home for a homecooked meal, which took some time to cook from scratch, of course. And not eating on a regular schedule always made me a bit… “peckish,” as my British friends say.
There were always plenty of candy bar choices, and most kids gobbled up the more mundane candies. I was okay with chocolate bars, peanut bars, caramel bars, etc, but I had a favorite that was always unusual among my peer group.
The outside was chocolate and didn’t seem particularly different from the others, but inside was very different. An exotic taste, unexpected, different.
And that, when it comes to my personal tastes, is how men are like candy bars.