Muffins: My Drug of Choice

The Bain of my Existence

I hate my coworkers.

I don’t mean that in a negative way. They are all very nice and I like being around them. They all seem like good people and, if the opportunity came up, I would not consider seriously injuring myself to avoid spending time with them outside of work.

This being said, they are a bad influence.

For the better part of a year, I have been trying to become a healthy person. If you had seen me a year ago, I was roughly the size of Winnebago. I have heard more than once that being the size of any sort of automobile is considered unhealthy, so I began to eat healthy and exercise.

I’ve done very well. I have lost 30 pounds (or 13.607771099999999 kilograms for those friends in every other place but America). In the process of doing this, I have weaned myself off of baked goods. Bread, cakes, pie, all out the window. Sure, on special occasion, I will partake in a slice of cake, but that’s reserved for birthdays, weddings, or any other occasion where I can justify it (which is surprisingly difficult to do).

I woke up this morning and had a nice nutritious breakfast involving fruit. Delicious, wonderful, slightly boring fruit. I packed a healthy taco salad (made with ground turkey instead of wonderful beef) for lunch and headed off to work.

I arrived just in time for a meeting. I’m continually amazed how important boss-type people manage to hide until they want to have a meeting. Then, they crawl out of their luxury sedans, do the meeting, and are gone as suddenly as they arrived. It’s a modern marvel that even scientists can’t explain, most likely because they can’t find their bosses to get their study of this phenomenon approved.

As I walked into the meeting, a man in a suit stood there. He greeted with a friendly hello before saying something much more sinister:

“Would you like a muffin?”

This offer is like offering Superman a kryptonite sandwich. Yes, the man of steel loves his sandwiches (I would assume. Who doesn’t like a sandwich?), but he knows that kryptonite will destroy him.

There are three things I really like in this world. I enjoy baseball. I’m a big fan of comedies. I love blueberry muffins, and there sat a box of the little demons, their moisture apparent even from 10 feet away.

I thought about running away, just turning and sprinting full speed out of the situation. Then I remembered this is my job and if I do that, they might be less willing to give me money. And I like the money part about work. That’s the main reason I have a job.

I politely declined and had a seat in the only chair left in the meeting space.

The one adjacent to the muffins.

We made small talk for a few minutes, before the man turned to me again.

“Are you sure you don’t want a muffin. There are plenty,” said the drug pusher in the suit.

I began a staring contest with the evil creatures. I knew the likelihood of me winning was low since they are baked goods, and baked goods do not have a tendency to blink.

I’d like to say I stood my ground. I’d like to say I sat there, unwavering and strong. I’d like to say a lot of things. Unfortunately, if I said those things, this would become a work of fiction.

But do I regret my decision? Yeah, a little. It was delicious though.

Fortunately, now that I have put the muffin out of its misery, I can go back to my life without having to face this dilemma again.

“Nathan, do you want my muffin? I really don’t like blueberry.”


10 thoughts on “Muffins: My Drug of Choice

  1. Oh, Nathan, Nathan…yes, I’m there with you on the whole bread thing…muffins, toast, bagels, crossiants are heavenly and so difficult to resist. That’s why I’m in need of watching my weight and borderline Diabetic. I can pass up donuts, and cake…but damn that bread!

    Sadly, I can (and not exaggerating) eat an entire fresh loaf of French Bread they sell in the bakery of your local supermarket. I can just tear off chunks, while I’m cooking spaghetti, and the rest of the family want to know where the bread went! (Damn it! How could I have eaten the entire loaf)

    The rule in our house, no fresh bread is allowed or Ice cream. I have to eat them until they are gone. No Thomas English Muffins either.

    My comfort foods are starches. Give me the #6 (used to be #1) Del Taco meal- combo and french fries please! How bad is it that I know the meal #s by heart? Hello! 🙂



  2. Nathan, I hope my blueberry muffin post did not put you off the wagon. In case you haven’t heard, my husband has a ritual of buying 5, 10 or 20 pounds of blueberries each August, taking up all my freezer space for the better part of a year. Then, the following July, right before the blueberry crop ripens again, he suddenly decides he’s better start using up the blueberries. Suddenly our kitchen is replete with muffins, pie, fruit salad bedecked with blueberries, blueberry cobbler, and the like. Better stay away from me in July just in case. Enjoyed your witty post.


  3. Pingback: This Blogger is Bad | Ahhsome

  4. I’ll trade you all the blueberry muffins I encounter for all the ice cream you encounter. (They don’t call me “Two Scoops” for nuttin’!)

    A very humorous post, Muffinman! :o)
    Hmmm… “Muffinman”. A new superhero?

    ~ Stephen
    “As a dog returns to his own vomit,
    so a fool repeats his folly.”
    ~ Proverbs 26:11


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