almond roca

...you think you know someone, you think after nearly twenty-three years together not much can surprise you, you think, if you went on the newlywed game there's nothing that would stump you (of course you're not newlyweds but still), if there was a quiz on the major issues, minor preferences, fabulous strengths (like knowing the proper names of all the types of trees and birds and weird berries you're not supposed to eat in the wilderness), the annoying idiosyncrasies (like eating a meal in parts, all the salad, then all the pasta, then all the green beans, rarely letting the food groups touch) and the wacky tidbits of sharing five different homes in three different states, through sickness and health and every car crash, prize won, bug smashed, bill paid, you'd come up aces and win the new kitchenette, but then you're standing in line at gelson's buying the usual stuff and you pick up a three pack of Almond Roca and he says he's never heard of it, let alone tasted it, and your mind is blown, your reality cracked right down the middle (a la The Truman Show or Total Recall), so you immediately buy that pink package of Almond Roca, all the while saying, remember it came in a canister? remember the foil wrapper? remember it's rolled in nuts with a toffee middle? and he doesn't and you think, who is this guy? you've barely paid for the candy and you're ripping into the foil as you exit through the sliding doors, you're shoving it in his mouth before reaching the car, and he says, absolutely i've never had this before, but it's good, to which you say, like or love? and he pauses and replies, love, to which you say, are you lying, to which he says, Scout's Honor, and makes the sign, three fingers pointing an oath toward the heavens, and that reminds you who this guy really is, so you don't make him eat another piece just to prove he loves it, because then there'll still be two left for you...