Mommy, More Cocoa, Please.

For years I've had, what I call, a "don't go there" philosophy. There are three things that I refuse to criticize about people: their hair, what they wear, and what they eat. Unfortunately, I'm about ready go back on that last one.

The people who come into Panera everyday have a wide range of tastes. Sure some of them make me want to yak, but I can let most of it slide. Except for this:

Men drinking hot chocolate.

Today in the course of half-an-hour, three different men came in the store and bought hot chocolate. Every time this happens, I want to stop the guy and ask, "All out of testosterone this week, are we?" What kind of society do we live in where men confidently stroll into a store and ask for hot chocolate? And then I have to follow their request with the obligatory, "Do you want whipped cream of that?" Are you kidding? Of course they do. I mean, they're ordering hot chocolate for Pete's sake.

I'm just saying there comes a time in your life when you need to step away from the kiddy table and hang out with the adults. Imagine a burley guy in a pick-up truck pulling into a McDonalds drive-through. He's your basic "get-r-dun" guy, rocking out to Lynyrd Skynyrd finishing up a can of Skoal. When the voice from the menu box asks "can I help you today?" our manly man barks back, "Get me a Happy Meal. No onions on that. And don't forget the toy." Not gonna happen. You don't see it. There's a reason. Men must be men. Men, please be men.

Guys, do me a favor: either get a mocha [at least there's some coffee in there] or ask for hot water and keep your own hot chocolate packets with you.

Actually, that would mean you'd have to order hot water. That's even worse. Just forget about it. Enjoy your cocoa. Want whipped cream with that?