The Chocolate Society

Marco invited me to this Chocoholic meet up. It was in a place called The Chocolate Society. I genuinely thought it was an official Society, like an exclusive club. It is more like a store that, yeah, have some membership program. But it is open to the general public who is willing to eat very good chocolate and pay the price.

Very cute place in a posh neighborhood. I do love chocolate, but I am not an expert. In fact, chocolate experts would say I don’t even like chocolate that much, because I love the milky ones, too sweet for their taste. There I was, surrounded by chocolate lovers, listening to their stories and future plans for meetings and choco-activities. The store smells very nice – like cocoa, do you know what I mean? I have a “normal” hot chocolate and shared a brownie and ice cream with Marco. Everything was very good. A bit pricy, so it is not something that could become a habit (although I have hot chocolate everyday, I couldn’t afford £ 3.99 everyday, even being the best hot chocolate in the world).

I will confess that I am not much of a fan of clubs, societies, groups, etc. I have being labeled, or being part of something. Maybe because I enjoy too many things and to choose one or two groups would be hard or maybe because I don’t enjoy anything that much that would make me want to go always with the same group, etc. This group was formed by 9 or 10 chocolate fans – the organizer was expecting 16 – and the people were quite different from one another, except that all of us (yes, me included) share not only the passion about chocolate, but also have at least a fatty belly – even the slim ones. One thing I’ve also noticed is that some of the women had bad skin. Oh-oh.

The best part – believe me or not – wasn’t the chocolate though! It was listening to the stories, in special of a funny bald guy. A photographer, if I’m not mistaken, but I don’t know his name. He had so many funny stories that it made me think if they were all true. One of the funniest of the day was when he was telling about his saga to buy a mask for the 10th anniversary of The Phantom of the Opera. He was invited at the last minute, so not much time to buy one. His solution was to buy a burka in a Muslim store. He had to say it was for his sister, who has been converted; otherwise nobody would sell him one. He managed to get one, wear it – as he said, it was like a negative: he was supposed to wear a mask, but in the end the only thing not covered were his eyes! – and go home with it. It was interesting to hear he saying that it was a good experience, because the ‘dress’ protected him from the outside world. Nobody would know what was under it; nobody could judge ‘his’ clothes, shoes, or hair style. On the other hand, ‘he’ was free to judge everybody else. Maybe this is why Muslim women don’t look that unhappy wearing that black sheet.

He paid £ 20.00 for the clothes. Maybe we all should try once! :-P