Yogi DeTox Tea

60 Hampton Village Plaza

Yogi DeTox Tea

In the weeks between the gastro glut of Thanksgiving and the financial glut of Christmas, we're pausing for a bit of detox. In two weeks, we'll attend our first holiday party of the season where we will spend too much absentminded time by some dip, our hand returning to our mouth as frequently as a chain smoker's cigarette and drinking one last cocktail that'll tip the next day from being worthwhile to worthless.

So far, our detox regime includes cleaning, eating healthier and going for jogs in Francis Park. Earlier today, we sorted through our bedroom. We gave up the ghost, tossing the size-2 khaki skirt and unloading a kind of slutty amount of college "shack favors" — guy-sized flannel pants and T-shirts that we acquired after spending the night, uh, out. The closet coughed up a wiry tangle of broken hangers and a cluster of shoes best described as "dusty" and "fashion-backward."

In the kitchen, we pitched questionable pasta, old potatoes and an ice cream tub of wilted lettuce. But we also fortuitously came across a box of Yogi DeTox Tea. The flakes are a woodsy assortment, containing an alarming amount of roots (Indian sarsaparilla, burdock, rhubarb, dandelion, skullcap and others) and bark (Chinese Amur cork tree, cinnamon) within the satchels. It sounds earthy and we're feeling good about our find until we get to the disclaimers, more numerous than those printed on a pack of smokes. Among them: "No more than 10 tea bags should be consumed in one day." "Not to be used during pregnancy or while nursing." "Not recommended to be used longer than 30 consecutive days." "These statements have not been evaluated by the FDA."

But in the name of good health, we make a large honey-colored cup of it. We drink up and the inside of our mouth feels like it's coated in a somewhat chai-like, buttery-yet-waxy substance. It's not as bad as we think it'd be and get a refill. Time for our run.

In an attempt to become truly peaceful during our jog, we try and absorb our neighborhood's surroundings. We see a kid playing in a hallowed-out pile of leaves, right where we'd put a large square of butter in a heap of mashed potatoes if we weren't being so damn healthy. We run atop the foliage considering the wonder of leaves, not as discarded nature needing to be cleaned by street sweepers, but rather appreciating each one as a vibrant, noisy tile in the sidewalk's mosaic.

But we abruptly, frantically, need to end our jog. We double-time it back to our apartment, not giving a damn about the brisk, beautiful autumn day, unlock the door and sprint to the bathroom where we remain for several long, uncomfortable minutes. We flush, then grab the box of tea on our kitchen table and start reading again: "Because it has no harsh laxatives or diuretics, DeTox is mild enough to be used every day for up to 30 days." Right. We're pretty sure we won't be doing that, so we put the box back in our meticulously organized cabinet and shut the door. We'll find it again — perhaps behind some forsaken healthy food that's currently taking up space — come spring cleaning.

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