• "Bells?"
    Sob, sob, sob.
    "Oh my god!!"
    My best friend Melissa opened the door to her fabulous apartment, (and by her I meant it actually BELONGED to her).
    "MEELIISSSAAAAAAA!!!!" gonk
    "Honey, come on in!! What happened? Did your Louboutins break?"
    "Stan broke up with me!!"
    GASP
    "Oh my god, are you ok? . . . Ok, it's no right?"
    *sniff, sniff*
    "Tell me everything later, right now, Dr. Melissa is going to help you."

    Cookie dough was Melissa's remedy for everything. Back when we were friends in high school, cookie dough was practically 75% of our diet. If I got an F on a test or if she lost her favorite scarf, cookie dough to the rescue.
    She, all with lightning speed, managed to take out the tube, cut it open, and squeeze out a bit through the top for me. Straight out of the freezer, I swear her hands could kill a bear.
    I sat on her soft and modern sofa (pure and white I might add), and munched on the cookie dough.
    ". . ."
    "Do you wanna talk?"
    "Urmghbnfjdhsfueierhbmfghp"
    "Uhm, honey, cookie dough OUT of the mouth."
    "Urmpghfoe - oh right. Sorry."
    "Honey."
    "Oh, uhm, ok. I walked into our apartment and I saw him picking out engagement rings online. Right then he said it was over. And he gave me four days to move."
    "Oh honey."
    "URPMHFFFEIOJEIGHDJNDMVIOETYOIEAPQPSGNBBEHIIIQUKMZNXOEPRPH."
    "Maybe I'll let you finish the cookie dough."
    "Urgmpkuu."
    "Sleep tight. smile "
    I fell asleep to the drone of the late night news and the nostalgic taste of the cookie dough.