Sugar Blues

I have this problem. I am a total sucker for packaging. I get drawn in by an image or a look, and before you know it I find myself in the downward spiral of disappointment and self berating, for what kind of a person buys a CD because the cover is awesome, people? It's no good, I tell you. Someone once asked me how I pick out my wine and I responded with "i'll buy it if it is under twelve bucks and if there is any kind of creature on the label".

So, I love cupcakes. I always have. I love cake in general, I even love the word. Cupcakes are the perfect, single serve, sublimely sized cake. So much better than a piece of cake, because a cupcake isn't a part of a bigger thing. You are getting your own little personal cake, all to yourself, and you don't have to share it with anyone or swap with them because yours is bigger and you got the bigger piece last time, and "you don't want to be a little piggy, DO you?" Oh....

Today, while I was out working in a nearby town, I saw a huge banner for a brand new cupcake shop. I did a sharp, wheel squealing u-turn, my eyes practically pin-wheeling in anticipation, and I found myself at said cupcake shop which was just as cute as a button. I have noticed that the trend in cupcake shops are that they are all super super cute with a modern touch, and it all reminds me a lot of the candy you find at Asian grocery stores, or come to think of it, the 70's version of the game "Candyland". So of course, now that you know of my problem with shiny packaging and cupcakes, you can see how I was lured in easier than a Japanese man to a hot dog eating contest.

Guess what happened next? Uh, I was totally disappointed. My cupcake was okay (if you like fresh frosting on two day old cake), but here's the thing. I can't have a cupcake without a cup of coffee or tea, it's just how I am. It's like if someone were to say, "Hey, let's listen to that Sonny album" or, "How about lets see what Roper has to say about the movie?" I just feel like something is missing without the hot beverage. I just wish that "hot" beverage hadn't been sitting there for the last eight hours and also, that maybe the fine ladies at the spanking new cupcake place could invest in some nicer lids that don't actually funnel more coffee into your lap than your mouth, although I think the lid might have just done my mouth a favor. Oh, and also, the Dave Matthews on the radio pretty much ruined any chance of me liking the place anyways. If I hear soprano saxophone too close to  eating I tend to come down with a serious case of the rollovers.

Which brings me to my story. This is the story of the WORST DATE in the HISTORY of the WORLD. Gather round, children, gather round. You won't be sorry...

So about a year ago, a man whom I met at a local establishment pestered me into going on a date with him. I was almost instantly galled by his...well, "healthy dose of self esteem", but my friends reminded me that if I didn't start "getting out there" I was in danger of becoming a weirdo shut-in. Which is actually my goal, but to placate them, I decided to go on this date, because who knows, right? I mean, tons of people have wormed their way into my heart after I got to know them, even though I hated them initially.

I suppose I should have seen the first red flag when he decided he wanted to take me to one of the worst and most overrated restaurants in town....which will remain nameless, but if you would like a hint, it rhymes with "Shmasta Shmay's". The following events are in order, and are completely and totally UN-exaggerated. Which for me, is huge, since I exaggerate everything ("I saw that movie like, ten times" = I saw most of it once and may or may not have fallen asleep).

First, after we were seated, my date said to me, "Baby, I am so glad you agreed to come out with me, even though I could have had both of your girlfriends, I chose you".

Second, he insisted on keeping his brand new $600 phone on the table ( I know the price because he told me), and answered it THREE times before the crappy salad even arrived...plus, he was so rude to the people that called him. He would loudly proclaim "listen, fool, I told you where I'll be so you can come or not, idiot!" Charming.

Third, he liked to talk himself up, a LOT. All that being "talked at" made me so hungry...and at the exact moment the food comes, he decides to go to the bathroom, leaving me staring at my plate of mediocre "I could have made this at home" lasagna.

Fourth, when he finally got back from the bathroom, he grabbed my hands and MADE ME PRAY WITH HIM before we ate. That's right, he made me say grace, right there, at shmasta shay's. I don't pray, my friends, unless I am  at my parent's house. I pray at my parent's dinner table because i love and respect them, but really I am just holding their hands and mumbling the words to "It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels" while they say their thing. I figure if they hear the word God in there somewhere at least they will think I tried.

Fifth, after this interminable meal was finally over, he berated the server for putting the check down in front of "the man" then insisted that we go dutch. I'm sorry, didn't you say you wanted to "take me" to dinner"? Asshole.

Then here's what happened. We were walking down the street (quite briskly, since we were walking towards my car...my getaway car, that is), when he stopped. He stopped, and gazed longingly into an empty storefront, and proclaimed, "Here it is". "Here is what?" , I asked. "Here is the spot I want to open up my cupcake shop", he announced.

This was before I knew that cupcake shops existed, or that they were about to become a bigger trend than Kabbalah or Indie Rock. My heart melted, and it melted fast. I gazed at him with new eyes, and thought, "I was wrong, I was wrong about this guy", and I took his hand and said, "Cupcake shop? Really?"

He turned to me and said, "Shit, yeah. I would totally bank, and imagine all the tight little bitches I could get to work for me. Damn..."

And that, kids, is the story of the Worst Date in the Histroy of the World. That date was so bad, I threw out the clothes I was wearing so that I wouldn't have to remember it. It is a good thing we went to that crappy restaurant since I don't care if I have a bad memory of that place. Luckily, my view of cupcakes was left unsullied, and you know, being a shut-in is not so bad. My new imaginary friends keep me company just fine, and they sure don't ever pester me to go out on any dates.