Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Immersed in ounces at the self-serve Coco Swirl
Words can't express how much Whoozyerkid and I just want to pull up a wheeled chair, stick our heads under the spigots at Coco Swirl; mouths agape, wanting, wanting, propelling ourselves left and right and left again like baby birds being fed by multiple mamabirds. Oh. It. Is. So. Good. The homemade mochi, the tart and plain yogurt, the fresh fruit, the CHOCOLATE creaminess. For lunch, dinner, dessert breakfast--whatever. We are lost, hopelessly lost in the swirl.
And it is a certain purgatory we find ourselves in when our cups house just air and our spoons seek cold resistance only to return to our trembling lips empty. Empty. Empty.