Return of the Mack

Bariloche, Argentina is a Ski town well known for its chocolate shops and making tourists fat. At the urging of several chocolate affectionados, I visited the most popular chocolate shop in town named "Mamushka-el chocolate muy rico" (Mamushka-the very rich chocolate). With a big smile on my face, I showed up to the front doors, which opened automatically (as if they knew I would be coming). I didn't really want much chocolate, and I had already game planned what my purchase would consist of; Three pieces with Almonds, one piece with rice crispies, one piece with some goo inside and a mint one.

If only obtaining goodies from this store was as simple as me. The Mamuska purchasing process is as annoying, difficult and time consuming as checking into a overbooked flight on Air Tran. First you must take a number from the number dispenser. This proves to be disheartening task as you see your number of 33 is nowhere near the most recent number called of 4. So, you just have to stand next to hoards of anxious women in front of a glass enclosure guarding upwards of 10 metric tons of chocolate. I don't crave many foods, but anyone would start to get a little restless when waiting for almonds fused with chocolatey goodness.

I have heard that the scene at a Bridal Gown Sale in the States is something to behold. Well, in Argentina, gowns are so B.C., as the real bickering comes when there are only three Mocca Fudge Truffles left and you have four ladies in front of you that look like MF truffles occupy real estate in all five categories of their food pyramid.

After waiting 20 minutes to give my not-so-complex order, I felt a weight gently lift off my shoulders as I was minutes away from departing this man made hell hole. However, just as the attendent was finished bagging my order, I reached for it, only to see her wisk away to another part of the store to where I assume I could pay for my damn chocolate.

Keeping an eye on my bag of chocolate I stealthily glided over to another line and waited for 5 minutes until I got to the counter to pay for my items. "I am sorry, this is the wrapping table, you need to pay over there" the lady said while pointing to a line similar in length to the toilet lines at Red Sox games. At this point I am ready to give up on my chocolate buying mission, but I rationalize that I have waited this long, what's another 5 minutes.

12 minutes later, I was back in the wrapping table line waiting to present my receipt and collect my f-ing chocolate.

I guess it was unbelievably delicious.


Ps. I ran into Olga (the blister getting Israeli from the hike) on the street right before I went to Mamushka. My smile upon entering Mamushka was predicated on this encounter. My frown upon departing Mamushka was predicated on Mamushka. However, I quickly regained happiness after laughing at my run in with Olga and inhaling the gooey piece.