zChocolate.com
I watched in amusement as my buddy Mike recoiled from the luxurious chocolate assortment like it was a tray of expired gym socks. "Chocolate? Blech—no thanks," he proclaimed with the conviction of a courtroom lawyer. "It tastes like overly sweet mud pretending to be fancy. I'd rather gnaw on a lemon rind or lick a battery for that zesty thrill." The lady beside us, mid-reach for a truffle, froze like she'd heard a crime confession.
"You're serious?!" she gasped, eyes wide with theatrical horror before shrugging and diving in with greedy delight, popping one after another like a victorious squirrel. I just chuckled, sliding the box closer to her. "I'm glad," I said with a satisfied grin, "there's more for me!" Mike rolled his eyes while the two of us chocolate lovers reveled in our melty, cocoa-filled triumph, leaving him to his sour candy regrets.
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