Like all my food and drink obsessions, I’m never quite sure where they begin. I try something, perhaps for the first time — a Peep; a pumpkin spice latte. These magic concoctions work their way into my diet. I take a sip, a bite or a nibble and, you know, fall desperately in love.
And then? Then it’s game on.
I don’t do things halfway. And right now, I’m all about the creamy concoctions sold in diners, ice cream parlors and Chick-fil-A restaurants nationwide: milkshakes.
Strawberry. Chocolate. Cookies and cream. Peanut butter. Whatever, wherever — if it’s a milkshake topped with whipped cream, I’m there. And, if you’re at the Nautilus Diner in Crofton, Md.? Well, they put sprinkles on theirs.
I know that, as far as drink obsessions go, this isn’t exactly a healthy one. I’m still trying to get to the gym on an, um, semi-regular basis. But there’s something about the allure of an ice-cold milkshake that keeps drawing me in, and I’m powerless to stop it.
Spencer and I were at a Hamboree near Baltimore over the weekend — “ham” as in ham radios, which basically translated to me walking around the Maryland State Fairgrounds with absolutely no idea what I was seeing. Vendors offered dismantled computers, radio parts and old tubes, lined up on the endless tables. Spencer was in his element . . . building, thinking, scheming.
He’s a physicist. And I’m a book nerd. I can barely pronounce “physicist.” (You know — opposites attract.)
So the Hamboree is in full swing and we’re talking around for hours in the chilly Cow Palace (just . . . yep), and I’m easily the youngest woman there. In fact, let’s be frank: I’m one of only a few women in the entire building. Never in my life have I been somewhere and seen a line for the men’s room and not the ladies’. (Finally — vengeance!)
It was fun, but you know what really kept me walking and spurred me on? The promise of a milkshake at Nautlius. I swear that when our server set it down on the table, I felt like shouting and rubbing my hands together like a maniac.
Instead, I managed to snap that photo before totally losing my mind.
That was gone in about .2378 seconds. I think I produced a hurricane-force wind with my spoon shoveling.