The devil’s ice cream
If you travel deep enough into hell, all the way to Dante’s ninth layer, you might run into the devil’s home office. There is a lot in there; a couple souls in a jar, gel pens that dry out as soon as you open them, a pitchfork, college-ruled paper and the scariest of them all: a never-ending frozen yogurt machine. Frozen yogurt is the worst. It tastes like you left ice cream out in the sun and a fly died in it. If Satan had a favorite dessert it would be frozen yogurt.
People mask its funk with an abundance of toppings that make no sense. Peanut butter yogurt covered with cookie dough, blueberry acai boba and sour gummy worms is not a combination that should ever be created, let alone enjoyed. People settle for a sub-par frozen dessert as an excuse to eat a bunch of junk food. You might as well just buy a bag of gummy worms and skip the yogurt.
No one knows how long those toppings sit out for. I have never once seen anyone put cantaloupe on their frozen yogurt, yet there is always a beaten up pile of them on the counter. Melon can be a death trap filled with bacteria if left out too long, but I guess if you are choosing to have a fermented dairy product for dessert you might not care.
If you are compromising on frozen yogurt instead of ice cream, there should be a good reason. Many people justify the decision because they believe it is healthier for them, but that is not the case. One 16-ounce cup of original tart-flavored yogurt at Menchies, a popular frozen yogurt chain, is 480 calories without any toppings. One regular serving of vanilla ice cream at Cold Stone Creamery is 540 calories. Sixty calories is not worth sacrificing a coveted dessert for one that could be mistaken for cold glue.
Quirky frozen yogurt flavors are a scam. No one wakes up in the morning craving blue raspberry Sour Patch Kid or Peppa Pig cotton candy frozen yogurt. It is a ploy to make you forget about the dessert’s mediocrity.
If frozen yogurt was not bad enough, the storefronts they are sold in are even worse. Cold and awkward, it is impossible to get comfortable in a yogurt shop. Somehow you are always the only one in there, give or take a dad or two trying to buy their daughters over with sprinkles. It is too quiet to have a meaningful conversation, but just loud enough to be annoying.
There is only ever one person working, and nine times out of 10 it is a random teenage girl who gives you a judgemental look any time you use more than three toppings. If I am already having frozen yogurt at least let me have Oreos, Heath, chocolate and a cherry on it in peace.
Frozen yogurt has no purpose or place in this world. It should stay locked away in Satan’s filing cabinet.
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