Sometimes love is playing hard to get

You know how magical it feels when you fall in love.   Once the love affair starts, you want nothing else.  You can’t get enough.  You get totally addicted attached.

Hopefully you’ll live together happily ever after.  But some love affairs don’t quite work out.  Once you are completely dependent for your happiness and personal wellbeing….sometimes you are stabbed in the back—-when out of nowhere, your true love is….. discontinued.

This happened awhile back with my favorite drink:  Honest Tea Community Green.  (Backup: Green Dragon flavor.)  All of a sudden,  it disappeared.  Didn’t answer my calls.  I was hurt.  Insulted.  Livid.  I tried stalking; but I couldn’t find it anywhere.

So how’s this for a sign?  Turns out  those same two flavors had another fan—who was far more famous—-and he also  had trouble finding them.     The rest is history:   Yes.We.Can.    So the story had a happy ending—in more ways than one.   I’m not positive it was connected— but since Obama was elected, suddenly  I’ve had no trouble finding my favorite flavors,  and I think they’re safe…. at least until the next election.

Meanwhile I was having a parallel problem.  I was also hooked on something else:  little containers of pre-made flan (creme caramel) made by Kozy Shack.   (Don’t even ask–it’s high in calories; low in nutritional value.)  Call it comfort food.  Whatever.

V does most of our grocery shopping.   One day he comes home and tells me they’re out of flan at Safeway.  And at Albertsons.  And at Whole Foods.

Before giving me the bad news, V had already broadened his search beyond our relatively small metropolitan (I use that word lightly) area.   He had driven to grocery stores within a radius of 30 miles in any direction that doesn’t lead to Big Sur or into the Pacific Ocean.  There was no flan to be found.

To most people, Kozy Shack Flan would not be considered a diet staple;  in our house this constituted a crisis.

V is an amazingly thoughtful and eager-to-please husband when it comes to filling my shopping  needs.   So he persisted.  He talked to managers of grocery stores.  He made special requests.  He offered to buy flan by the case— he got nowhere.

It was hard to accept my loss; but finally I gave up on flan— and drowned my sorrows….. in chocolate.

Then, one day out of the blue—lo and behold, by some miracle, the skies opened and the sun came out and the flan magically re-appeared on the shelves at Albertson’s as if it had never left.   All was right with the world again.   Maybe President Obama started eating it or something.

To be completely honest— since women are known to be fickle—in the absence of flan,  I took up with a new lover (I’m too superstitious to mention names in case it disappears).  But you can see by our refrigerator that V is still hedging his bets and isn’t taking any more chances.