My Affair With Chip

He was only a chocolate chip cookie, but I loved him. I met him at a party. There he was at the end of the buffet--a loner, the last one on the plate. He had a certain something--a sweetness, a sensuality. He was one hot cookie. I felt as if I'd always known him, always hungered for him. When he looked at me with those warm brown eyes, I melted. Before I knew it, I had my hands on him, my mouth on him--in public. After that we were inseparable. With him, I could be myself. He didn't seem to care what mood I was in, how I looked, even if I gained weight. Together, we had the recipe for happiness. No one satisfied me like CHIP. Then things changed. My friends said he was no good for me. He started to give me heartburn. I felt crummy, but it had to end. Now, we've gone our separate ways. I hardly think of him anymore. Oh, if I see a certain TV commercial, a particular magazine ad, a coupon for 10 cents off--that old longing returns. And when we run into each other in the supermarket we nod. We're friendly. But it's over.

THE END