My hero, Zero

Usually, if I have a craving I don't waste time worrying about it, second-guessing myself and wrestling with the implications of satisfying a guilty pleasure. No way, man. I satisfy that sucker with extreme prejudice. All pleasure and no guilt, whether it's Chico's Tacos, Spam or a can of ravioli.

At least, that used to be true, but lately Lopez! has been slowing things down with a combination of social conciousness (which has been steadily knocking various restaurants off the "approved" list) and conciousness of just how bad my eating habits can be sometimes. I respect the first, and appreciate the second. But c'mon, sometimes a guy's gotta have a corn dog and a bowl of Cap'n Crunch or he'll go nuts.

The last three months have been the longest I've gone without feeding whatever monkey-of-the-moment has hopped on my back, and Lopez! actually has nothing to do with it. If anything, I think she's beginning to feel sorry for me.

I cannot find a Zero bar anywhere in Austin.

I know there's got to be someplace in the city that sells them. There's gotta be. Seriously, they're great. El Paso must've spoiled me for Zero accessibility (chew on that), because I could literally go into almost any store there and pick up a Zero. Austin? Nada. Not even a hint. Just clerks who look at me like I'm high when I ask if they carry it.

Here's what makes a Zero come together; caramel, peanut and almond nougat, all covered in white fudge. God, I feel like a junkie just thinking of it.

And I didn't even know it was fudge. I mean, somewhere in my head I must've known because it's right there on the wrapper, but for some reason I always thought it was white chocolate. Oh, silly man. Of course it's not white chocolate. Only white fudge could leave that thin layer on the roof of your mouth that stays with you, lovingly, for half a day.

Something else I didn't know - and never really thought about, to be honest - was the name. Apparently, Zeros have been around since the 1920s, when the Gimmick Ruled the Earth. Zero's gimmick was refrigeration. The idea was that, to properly enjoy the candy bar, it had to be cold ... as in, zero degrees. Get it? Huh? Get it?

I wish I could get it, but I haven't found a Zero anywhere in town. And I've looked. Anytime I've been anywhere with a candy aisle, I've looked. And nothing. Supposedly, they're available in "most" Walgreens, but that's a dirty lie. A friend claims he found a 7-11 that sells them, and I'll be checking it out as soon as I can make my way over there.

For his sake, he better hope I find a Zero when I get there. Three months is a looong time.