A Frozen Yogurt Fail

Let’s talk about first world problems. I suffered from one yesterday. This blog post isn’t actually about something I ate, so much as something I didn’t.

It was one of those rare hot days in london. The kind where the air feels muggy and close even thought the sky is just a pale greyish blue. I was pretty excited to have my bare legs out and my sandals on. I was summery, wonderfully summery. But there was just one thing missing. Frozen yogurt.

I know frozen yogurt has become a bit of a fad these days, something happened and suddenly there were frozen yogurt stores popping up on every corner. It’s not something that I go for that often, but today, I really had a craving. Also, I get a sort of visual nostalgia when I see one. It reminds me of the mid 90’s when you could go to a Pizza Hut and get an all you can eat deal, complete with a pull your own soft serve ice cream dessert buffet, and toppings. So many toppings. The most exciting for me being the mini marshmallows and multi-coloured jelly squares.

So, it’s not the same. Visually though, it takes me back, and that’s what I wanted. I wanted a frozen yogurt that looked like the ice cream of my childhood, but with slightly more refined toppings. I didn’t think it was too much to ask. It was.

As soon as I was liberated from work for my lunch break I ran up to Itsu and eagerly dashed to the counter. “One fro-go please!” I said. “The machine’s broken” the girl replied shrugging “you can get a yogurt from the fridge”. “Is it frozen” I asked “No” “Does it have toppings?” I continued. “Umm… No, but it’s very low in…” Very low in I don’t care? I left empty handed and disappointed.

Next I tried Frae in the Camden Passage. It was closed. Indefenitely. No matter, Samba Swirl was just a hundred metres down the road. It too, was permanently closed. I was getting desparate, I hadn’t found anything and was running out of time. Eventually, In an irrational act of distress I bought a very ill advised Oreo sandwich. It was bland, and floury and not at all worth the calories or the inevitable suffering caused when one stuffs dairy in their mouth knowing, full well, that they have a lactose intolerance.

I returned to work dejected. In an attempt to lighten the disappointment, I drew for myself an illustration of the frozen yogurt that might have been. A visual image of the joy I might have experienced, had the universe not been against me. Resigned to my fate, I looked at what I had drawn. It looked delicious, but metaphysics wasn’t going to help me in this moment. I though to myself, that this time, and hopefully not again for a while, I would have to eat my frozen yogurt with my eyes.

This is what I had
This is what I wanted. Sigh.

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