Fresh Bakery

March 14th, 2020

This afternoon, I was driving a young woman to the gym, so that she could work out for a while. Earlier in the day, Karin and I had been hanging out at the Hillside Coffee House. The young woman has started working there part time as a barista. The café also functions as a small bakery that specializes in cakes and other sweet things. The young woman is fond of confections, so while Karin and I were at the café, we bought her a thick slice of cake and a large cupcake. We brought it back to the girl after we ran a few errands.

As the young woman and I were driving to the gym, she asked me,

“What kind of cake was that?”

I couldn’t remember for sure. I told her,

“It was some kind of cheesecake sort of thing. Was it okay?”

She told me, “Yeah. The baked goods there are awesome. I mean the coffee is good, but compared to the bakery, it’s crap.”

“So, you liked the cake?”

She deflected the question and asked me, “How long was the slice of cake in the box?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe two hours.”

She just said, “Oh.”

After an uncomfortable pause, I asked her, “Why do you ask?”

She replied, “Well, the oils from the cake had already started to soak into the cardboard. I was anticipating this amazing bakery moment. I was expecting this glorious cake experience, but it wasn’t all that…glorious.”

It was my turn to say, “Oh.”

She went on, “I’ve tried the bakery at the coffee shop. It’s always been amazing. But then it was fresh.”

“And the slice of cake wasn’t fresh?”

She shook her head.

“So, did you just throw it away?”

She frowned. “No, I ate it, but it wasn’t as amazing as it could have been.”

I told her, “Well, if we aren’t competent to get you cake from the shop quick enough, then maybe we shouldn’t try to do that any more.”

The young woman replied, “You can still buy me cake, just bring it right home.”

I changed the subject slightly. I asked her, “So, how was the cupcake?”

“Oh, that was good. It tasted just like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. It would have been better fresh.”

“Yeah, fresh.”

She nodded. “Yeah, fresh.”

Then she asked me, “Was anybody been looking at my artwork in the shop?”

“I didn’t see anybody looking at it in an obvious way.”

She sighed from the depths of her soul. “Well, I guess I need to paint some new stuff.”

I told her, “That’s a good idea. People might want to to look at artwork that’s fresh.”

She gave me the death stare.

Then she said, “I guess we could talk to all those dead artists who never became famous until they were dead.”

“No, let’s not do that.”