At school last week, I broke the sanctity of a decades long tradition. I never eat Toblerone, EXCEPT, for some reason, every time I’m in an International airport about to go (or already there) abroad. It’s hardly the greatest international chocolate, either. But it’s a thing. (Like when I used to drink Fanta every time I went to Mexico or Europe. And I didn’t even drink soda, ordinarily. That habit is long since dead.) But I went to the hub and saw Toblerone and suddenly had to have it. I must have traveling to Italy Berlin on the brain. And the Husky Hub feels airport-like. (Let’s face it, same quality of food, too! Nyuk nyuk.) Though I prefer the dark chocolate, there’s something familiar and comforting and exciting to me about this weird, long triangle yellow box of chocolate.
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