I’ve mentioned that I like cake, right?
The draw of morning donuts and the siren song of the snack machine have been easier and easier to resist. I’ve been very proud of myself.
We celebrate birthdays in my department at work. We had a birthday today. A girl I work with brought in cake for the boss. This cake was layers of whipped cream and chocolate pudding. I am powerless in the face of chocolate pudding and whipped cream.
No way I wasn’t eating a piece of that cake.
I can replay the following events with crystal clarity in my mind. HD even.
The bottom layer of this cake was a hard, crunchy cookie type thing with walnuts or pecans or something. I took my piece, on a styrofoam plate and ATTEMPTED to push my fork through the hard, crunchy cookie part.
The fork went THROUGH the plate, which caused a catapult effect and the cake flew, whipped cream side down, right down the front of my kinda low cut shirt. It came to rest right between my boobs.
This happened in front of my entire department.
I had a moment of denial. I would just pretend it didn’t happen. Or that I MEANT to do that. ALL the cool kids wear pudding cake on their tits, right?
Instead, I reached down my top and pulled the cake out.
This did not help. The result was having whipped cream smeared all over my chest. Trust me when I tell you, I have a waking understanding of that dream where you accidentally go outside without your clothes on. Standing in front of a bunch of men with whipped cream smeared all over my chest cast that nightmarish feeling all through me.
I mustered all the dignity I could and walked the long walk from the IT department to the ladies room. I honestly don’t remember if I passed anyone in the hall way. If I did..they probably only noticed my regal walk and my stoicism..I’m sure they didn’t notice the glob of whipped cream that had made it into my fucking HAIR.
I cleaned up as best I could and took my big bad sticky self back to the crowd and took my lumps. Pretty sure this one is gonna get mentioned another time or two. I might need a few weeks, or perhaps forever, to live this one down.
Being the grown up that I am, I flipped the cake off with both hands and got a new piece. No way I was eating it in front of everyone, because obviously, that doesn’t work out well for me. I took it back to my desk and ate it by my lonesome.
It wasn’t even that good.
This would have NEVER happened with broccoli.