The tidbit confessions: Small personal ongoing confessions about late night cravings.
Bloomingdales is absolutely beautiful.
Yeah whether it’s their clothing line or cute Little Brown Bags, stepping into their stores is an experience by itself.
I was with my good friend when I literally pressured her into going in that part of Bloomingdales where they sold cupcakes and displayed them so perfectly on white plates it was just too good to pass. My eyes practically glowing when I saw THAT ICEBOX CAKE.
I can already feel the cream and chocolate blend melt in my mouth. The taste didn’t change at all, from the last time we got some. This could gladly become a ritual of ours, because my good friend actually introduced me to that cake and I just can’t thank her enough.
Bad breakup? Bring me a slice will you, and some napkins.
Fight with family? Don’t talk to me while I’m eating it.
Meeting with a friend you haven’t seen in a long time? Let me take you to the best place in town, and the best taste.
But for now, the routine will be: Bloomingdales- Touch the window- spot the Icebox Cake in the crowd of sugary goodness- beg the guy for the biggest slice he’s ever given- mooore, just a little more to the left, and when the guy starts looking at you weird-“perfect! ”
“Sure you can eat that all by yourself?”
“Don’t doubt me man.”
Because every bite I took was one from the past, and the near-past felt a little sweet. Not that sour kind of past you don’t want to make your tastebuds go through anymore, but more of the near-past where everything was okay, and where you still remember what perfume you liked and what music was playing in Bloomingdales. That near-past where you can still remember what it felt like when your friend dragged you in to taste what you’ve been craving for a couple of months.