Dat Dough Doe


Do adults get tummy aches from eating too much sugar? I got an insane tummy ache last night…in. sane.

  • The I-can’t-move kind of tummy ache, where I laid on the couch in the fetal position.
  • The amount of sugar that required me to brush my teeth twice.
  • The type of ache that had me whining, “I don’t want to go to the hospitalllll.” Yes, I actually said that.

There’s a place in NYC that sells cookie dough. (You heard me right; 20 flavors of not ice cream, but cookie dough.) Usually, the line stretches down the block across the street, but last night it wasn’t too long. After waiting for a certain amount of time (would rather not say), a “bouncer” gave our party golden tickets neon stickers, and, with pride, we entered into the pasteurized-egg-product-promise-land. Finally, smh. I’d only been waiting in this line for 18 years. The metaphorical line, that is, of being told, “you can’t lick that; please don’t be that stupid.” Just let me live my life, fam.

I still hadn’t decided what flavor of cookie dough I wanted. A friend had me hooked with, “this one tastes like Dunkaroos.” Should I honor my childhood and family name? Or, should I opt for the Oatmeal M&M…you know…something a little lighter? I had a sample of said Dunkaroo flavor and went that route. Yes, I’m the sentimental type. One of my biggest mistakes, however, was wanting to “balance out the sweetness” with ice-cream. And, you can’t have ice-cream without a cone, of course. Things escalated. Things got weird quickly. Rash decisions were made. Ultimately, I decided to color coordinate my curated piece: frosted fork cookie dough with vanilla ice-cream on a french-vanilla red cone. I was proud.

Eventually the time came, when I could eat no more. It was time to transport the sugary-goodness through Washington Square Park and all the way home. The dough glistened in the steamy, subway station. I could see a few ladies on the subway, one with a Whole Foods bag, the other with a Trader Joes bag, eyeing my prized possession. “Don’t judge me, now. I am one of you. Hashtag: check your privilege,” I thought. What I should’ve done was check my own privilege. I thought I was beyond getting a tummy ache…too cool for school…too cautious to be nauseous…too grown up to throw up.

Stay humble, friends.

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