I hate lollipops. Well, not so much lollipops, but the people who suck on them.
And by people, I mean adults!
Grown-ups.
Grown-ups who brazenly flaunt their immaturity—like a badge of honor—in front of others of us trying to enjoy and revel in our adult status and affectations.
I feel sorry for them; how desperately they cling to some notion of youth, maybe their last life point of happiness.
Or how cowardly and weak, they, unable—despite years of preparation, experience, and tutelage—to embrace all of their expected responsibilities.
And to then disguise that cowardice in some futile attempt at social cynicism, hiding their real life anxiety behind self-imposed "ironic" persona.
I am reminded of all this as I discover that my midtown Manhattan lunch has been paper-bagged with the burger and soda that I indeed ordered and an old school, surprise lollipop that I, obviously, didn't.
As I sat on the steps of some block-long office building on Park Avenue, I tried to get through each bite and sip of my lunch with out thinking about that nostalgic nugget of sweet contentment waiting for me still in the bottom of that paper bag, out of sight.
Out of sight, and taunting me. Teasing me.
(It's like when I see a really attractive women get into the same crowded subway car as me; although I can't see her, I know she's in the same car and I can't even concentrate on the song I'm listening to on my iPod.)
I finish my lunch.
I usually throw my remaining detritus in the same paper bag it came in and later toss it in the nearest corner garbage can.
But I had to decide what to do with that damn lollipop.
Then, again, I think of all the recently divorced "cougar" cubs trying desperately to get their "girliness" back, wool-suited douchebags swilling overpriced scotch, or hipster wannabes quoting Milan Kundera.
And I decide I want to have no association with them whatsoever. I toss the paper bag—lollipop and all—into the garbage.
But that lollipop was all I could think about on my way home. Had I overreacted? Was I that publicly insecure? Couldn't I had just saved that tasty treat for when I got home and enjoyed it privately?
What kind of wrong-headed, weak-willed simpleton was I...?!
...I hate lollipops....