Ah, The Times. Often, so behind the times. Oh, sure, I'm still an avid reader. But occasionally I just shake my head, like: they're just now discovering this phenomenon? (See: hipster librarians, Philadelphia's awesomeness, and the latest: Insomnia Cookies).
Insomnia Cookies is the brainchild of some UPenn students who smartly thought that college kids, up late cramming for finals, might crave warm cookies delivered to their door. Bam, the company was born. It has now expanded to thirteen campuses and offers more than just cookies (brownies and cookie cakes, anyone?)
Of course, being the non-furry, female version of Cookie Monster (actually, scratch that: aren't all the Sesame Street puppets sort of androgynous?), I was an avid orderer of Insomnia's treats during college. Sadly, this consumption of delicious cookies usually was prompted by a desperate sugar craving, always followed by a crazy binge and a resulting stomachache and guilt. ("Insomnia Cookies - now with a free side of guilt!")
Eh, but I digress. Binges aside, these are some darn good cookies, if you don't mind occasional glitches in service. One night, nearly two hours after I'd ordered - and nearly given up - there was a knock at my apartment door. A sweaty, bearded boy on a track bike stood outside, holding a small pizza box. I tipped him well - maybe the poor thing could save up for a car! - and settled down in my pjs to consume my bounty. The cookies, from being boxed right out of the oven and then jostled around en route to my place, were slightly dented and sorry-looking. But somehow, as I savored the decadence of peanut butter, double-chocolate chip, and white chocolate-macadamia nut, this made them better. I
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