Everybody loves that classic love story where the sailor looks across the room, sees the girl, turns to his buddy, and says, “See that lass? I’m gonna marry her someday.” That’s sort of what happened between me and chocolate mousse on a sunny June morning in Paris, France. I had to take a wiz, so I got up from my table to walk to the restroom. On the way, I passed by the kitchen, and there she was, sitting atop a metal counter, powdered sugar sprinkled lightly upon her smooth skin.
I froze. I’d never seen anything so beautiful. Still stunned, I summoned the waiter. Without breaking eye contact with her, I asked the man casually, “Who’s that on the counter there? What’s her situation? She got a man?” He looked at me like I was insane, and said “That’s today’s dessert special, the chocolate mousse.”
“Special indeed,” I thought. I knew I had to meet her.
Later on, back at the table, I asked the waiter to introduce me to the chocolatey maiden. When she was reluctantly dragged to my table, I realized that, lovesick as I was, destiny wouldn’t happen all by itself. So, being the sexy beast that I am, I leaned in and whispered, “Baby, I could just eat you up.” I guess she was pretty shy. She didn’t say anything. But when I took that first bite, I realized that, despite her timidness, she was very sweet.
When we were paying for the meal, I saw the waiter bringing her to a table across the room. I stood up, and walked over. “I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot let you do this. You see, I love her, and it would kill me to see her with another man.”
“Don’t worry, sir,” he told me. “This is just her identical twin.”