I can hear them calling out to me. Their voices are sweet, innocent, pure and they’re definitely calling out to me. There’s no desperation or anger in their voices, only the promise that when I go to them things will be better.

I can’t just hear their voices, I can feel them. And every time they call for me I yearn more and more. I try to resist but deep down I don’t really want to. I want to submit to their will and do what they’re telling me to do. It’s intoxicating and I start to fantasise about going to them. But this time I clear my head and have some peace.

It never lasts. They are relentless. They won’t shut up and they know I want them which makes them try even harder. Eventually I break. “I’ll just have a couple of them and put them away” I tell myself. But I’m lying. I’ll keep eating them until there are none left. And this isn’t like some 10 year old eating chocolates until they’re sick. This is much more intense!

I am of course talking about what turns out to be the food equivalent of crack cocaine for me – olives in anchovies from the olive guy at the Skipton market…

I discovered my nemesis when I had a rare day off from work and went to the aforementioned market. I thought I’d try a couple of the olives and upon eating just one I was hooked. So I bought a small bag for later. I got home and had a couple, then I ate the rest of them. And I wanted more. Unfortunately he’d told us he only ran the stall on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and since I could only get into Skipton on a weekend I’d never be able to have them again!

Fortunately my friend worked in Skipton so I got him to buy me some more (they didn’t last long either). Then disaster struck. My friend moved away (back to New Zealand – the lucky git) and my olives were no more. It was okay because I forgot all about them in time. Like pain, that sort of intense pleasure doesn’t stick in your mind so I moved on. Until yesterday.

We went shopping for fruit and veg at the market (what a bargain) and we saw the olive man! Turns out he’d decided to work Saturdays so it didn’t take long for me to get some olives in anchovies. As it had been a while and the cravings had gone I didn’t need to satiate my passion straight away – I put them in a bag and went home.

Then I tried one. And another and another. After half a dozen I put them away and went into the lounge. And that’s when the voices started. Calling ever-so-quietly. Seductively. And I know that when I eat a couple I’ll want to eat more until they’re all gone. But that’s exactly what they want me to do and I’m going to resist. They’re not the boss of me!

Oh, who am I kidding? I can’t stop myself… I’m going to the fridge. I may be some time!