Original of the Species
Considering I'm not what I'd call a party person I'm surprisingly adroit at planning parties. A lot of this is because of my job, where I've planned dozens of large scale events over the past decade. Even so, certain things, because of my peculiar tastes trip me up, hard.
Like cake. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
You see BLOG reader. My Lovely Bride turns forty on November 9th. When we were discussing this big milestone birthday, what she wanted, what she expected, she decided she wanted a big party to celebrate herself. An adult party. And by adult I don't mean keys in the bowl. I'm talking sans kids.
All of which is voodoo to me. I'd just as soon lay low and leave town on my birthday as do a big party. In fact, my fortieth birthday was spent in a very low key fashion, more punch line, than celebration. There's a funny story related to it and that, which I'm going to BLOG about in a day or so. For now, we're talking My Lovely Bride, and I'm digressing, hard.
In talking about this big party we worked out that we'd have it catered, nicely, buy a bunch of beer, wine, again nice. Some booze. Make it a very nice adult party that we'd have at the very adult (again un-kid-friendly vs. keys in the bowl) Casa Pond which also allowed us to leave the Boy(s) at home with a babysitter.
In discussing the menu for the party, I told her what and how many I had ordered and then made the offhand comment that I didn't order any sweets since I figure the last thing you want to do is be guzzling Sweet Tea vodka while you eat a freaking cupcake. The very thought makes me want to puke. But that's me. My Lovely Bride looked at me like I was daft and said, "You have to have a cake?"
"Really?" I asked incredulously.
"Really." She answered with that tone that implied she wasn't quite sure if I was being cheap by not wanting to get a cake and/or really that big of a dipshit.
For the record it was the latter. I am that big of a dipshit. Which is why I walked in Tom Thumb(job) completely baffled on how you order a birthday cake. When I walked into the newly remodeled Tom Thumb(job) by our pad, the lady who ran the deli and bakery area gave me a big smile and said, "Hello sir. How can we help you today?"
"I need to order a cake." I said.
"(Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) will help you."
I could see (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee) standing in the back of the prep area decorating some cookies or cupcakes so I walked toward the cake thing which was as close as I could get to him without going into the employee area.
"I'll be right with you sir."
"No sweat," I said.
Looking up I saw 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage. It broke down ordering cake into four easy steps.
Step 1: Pick the cake (and it had a list of choices.)
Step 2: Pick the filling.
Step 3: Pick the size.
Step 4: Pick the icing.
Simple enough I thought, as I knew My Lovely Bride wanted a chocolate cake with white icing. The one thing I wasn't so sure about was size. Since I'm a dipshit and I guess haven't watched enough Ace of Cakes to realize what the sizes listed meant. Quantity wise.
"How can I help you, sir?" (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) asked.
"I need a birthday cake." I explained. "For my wife. Not a kid. It's a 40th birthday."
"Ok," "(insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) said gesturing toward the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage. "What do you want?"
"How does it work size wise?" I asked. "I figure we got 50ish people coming, and of that 50, say 25 will want cake. The thought of cake and booze make me want to puke. But my wife wants the cake so..."
(Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) gave me a curious look, probably because I shared too openly with him.
"Well a half sheet will feed," he said. Then stopped. Thinking. "Between 15 and 40 people."
Now. Even though I'm an epic dipshit, even I got the vibe that what (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) was telling me was dubious. That was a big ass range of servings and the last thing I wanted to do was end up with a birthday cake that didn't serve everyone. My Lovely Bride would be pissed. At me. And figure I was being cheap. Versus being a dipshit.
"Dude, that's a pretty big range of servings." I said.
"Yeah," He said. "It depends on how big you cut the pieces."
We stood there under the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage for a few minutes when I realized I better call My Lovely Bride so I didn't screw up. Only. She didn't answer. As usual.
"She's not there." I said to (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name. "She never answers that damn cell phone."
(Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) gave me a curious look redux and said, "I'll be over there, sir. Let me know when you are ready to order."
"Cool." I said. "Let me call my Mother-In-Law."
Thankfully she answered the phone and gave me the info that I needed to order a cake. All the while, the (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) was in the kitchen frosting something, and sort of looking at me out of the corner of his eyes, probably thinking, what the fuck.
I was about to get off the phone when I heard Buddy, My Father-In-Law, ask Linda, My Mother-In-Law for the phone, so I ended up standing under the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage for at least five minutes talking on my robot phone.
"Hey dude," I called to the (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name.) "I'm ready."
(Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) walked over to me and grabbed an order pad that had the same information as the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage.
After taking down my personal information (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) asked, "What kind of cake do you want, sir?" Again gesturing at the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage which had a list of choices.
"Chocolate." I said.
"What kind of filling?"
"Filling," I asked.
To be honest, I hadn't really thought about a filling. I've never had a cake (which isn't saying much) that had a filling in it. But feeling impish said, "Cheese."
This took (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) by surprise. Enough that he looked up from his pad and said, "Cheese."
"Yeah, cheese." I said.
"You mean cream cheese?" He asked.
"No. Cheese cheese." I said. "Like cheddar."
On hindsight I should have got my robot phone and taken a picture of (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name.)
He was baffled. And stood there looking at me, trying to figure out, what to say next.
Which is when I blew it and started to laugh.
"You're kidding?" He asked, still a bit unsure.
"Yeah." I said. "I'm messing with you. I don't want a filling."
After that we were golden. (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) thought I was pretty cool, I guess, for messing with me and assured me that My Lovely Bride's cake would be the most kick-ass cake ever.
"Just so long as you don't pay me back for messing with you by spitting in it." I said. "Or worse."
"That's against the law." He told me.
"Dude. I'm kidding. Again." I said.
"Oh." He said handing me the receipt.
On my way out the lady who runs the deli and bakery area came up to me, pulled off her plastic hand glove for food sanitation thing, and held her hand up indicating she wanted to high-five.
Being a fan of the high-five, in all its cheesy glory, I held my hand up and gave her one.
"That was funny." She told me. "I've never seen anyone have their leg pulled so well. You really got (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) good."
"Thanks." I said. "Do me a favor?"
"Yes, sir." She said.
"Make sure (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) doesn't spit in my wife's cake for pay-back."
Until I BLOG again...I want the lot of what you got, And I want nothing that you're not.
Happy Birthday to My Lovely Bride. I truly hope her 40th is everything she wants.
Like cake. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
You see BLOG reader. My Lovely Bride turns forty on November 9th. When we were discussing this big milestone birthday, what she wanted, what she expected, she decided she wanted a big party to celebrate herself. An adult party. And by adult I don't mean keys in the bowl. I'm talking sans kids.
All of which is voodoo to me. I'd just as soon lay low and leave town on my birthday as do a big party. In fact, my fortieth birthday was spent in a very low key fashion, more punch line, than celebration. There's a funny story related to it and that, which I'm going to BLOG about in a day or so. For now, we're talking My Lovely Bride, and I'm digressing, hard.
In talking about this big party we worked out that we'd have it catered, nicely, buy a bunch of beer, wine, again nice. Some booze. Make it a very nice adult party that we'd have at the very adult (again un-kid-friendly vs. keys in the bowl) Casa Pond which also allowed us to leave the Boy(s) at home with a babysitter.
In discussing the menu for the party, I told her what and how many I had ordered and then made the offhand comment that I didn't order any sweets since I figure the last thing you want to do is be guzzling Sweet Tea vodka while you eat a freaking cupcake. The very thought makes me want to puke. But that's me. My Lovely Bride looked at me like I was daft and said, "You have to have a cake?"
"Really?" I asked incredulously.
"Really." She answered with that tone that implied she wasn't quite sure if I was being cheap by not wanting to get a cake and/or really that big of a dipshit.
For the record it was the latter. I am that big of a dipshit. Which is why I walked in Tom Thumb(job) completely baffled on how you order a birthday cake. When I walked into the newly remodeled Tom Thumb(job) by our pad, the lady who ran the deli and bakery area gave me a big smile and said, "Hello sir. How can we help you today?"
"I need to order a cake." I said.
"(Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) will help you."
I could see (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee) standing in the back of the prep area decorating some cookies or cupcakes so I walked toward the cake thing which was as close as I could get to him without going into the employee area.
"I'll be right with you sir."
"No sweat," I said.
Looking up I saw 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage. It broke down ordering cake into four easy steps.
Step 1: Pick the cake (and it had a list of choices.)
Step 2: Pick the filling.
Step 3: Pick the size.
Step 4: Pick the icing.
Simple enough I thought, as I knew My Lovely Bride wanted a chocolate cake with white icing. The one thing I wasn't so sure about was size. Since I'm a dipshit and I guess haven't watched enough Ace of Cakes to realize what the sizes listed meant. Quantity wise.
"How can I help you, sir?" (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) asked.
"I need a birthday cake." I explained. "For my wife. Not a kid. It's a 40th birthday."
"Ok," "(insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) said gesturing toward the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage. "What do you want?"
"How does it work size wise?" I asked. "I figure we got 50ish people coming, and of that 50, say 25 will want cake. The thought of cake and booze make me want to puke. But my wife wants the cake so..."
(Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) gave me a curious look, probably because I shared too openly with him.
"Well a half sheet will feed," he said. Then stopped. Thinking. "Between 15 and 40 people."
Now. Even though I'm an epic dipshit, even I got the vibe that what (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) was telling me was dubious. That was a big ass range of servings and the last thing I wanted to do was end up with a birthday cake that didn't serve everyone. My Lovely Bride would be pissed. At me. And figure I was being cheap. Versus being a dipshit.
"Dude, that's a pretty big range of servings." I said.
"Yeah," He said. "It depends on how big you cut the pieces."
We stood there under the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage for a few minutes when I realized I better call My Lovely Bride so I didn't screw up. Only. She didn't answer. As usual.
"She's not there." I said to (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name. "She never answers that damn cell phone."
(Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) gave me a curious look redux and said, "I'll be over there, sir. Let me know when you are ready to order."
"Cool." I said. "Let me call my Mother-In-Law."
Thankfully she answered the phone and gave me the info that I needed to order a cake. All the while, the (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) was in the kitchen frosting something, and sort of looking at me out of the corner of his eyes, probably thinking, what the fuck.
I was about to get off the phone when I heard Buddy, My Father-In-Law, ask Linda, My Mother-In-Law for the phone, so I ended up standing under the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage for at least five minutes talking on my robot phone.
"Hey dude," I called to the (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name.) "I'm ready."
(Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) walked over to me and grabbed an order pad that had the same information as the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage.
After taking down my personal information (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) asked, "What kind of cake do you want, sir?" Again gesturing at the 'How to order a cake' for idiot signage which had a list of choices.
"Chocolate." I said.
"What kind of filling?"
"Filling," I asked.
To be honest, I hadn't really thought about a filling. I've never had a cake (which isn't saying much) that had a filling in it. But feeling impish said, "Cheese."
This took (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) by surprise. Enough that he looked up from his pad and said, "Cheese."
"Yeah, cheese." I said.
"You mean cream cheese?" He asked.
"No. Cheese cheese." I said. "Like cheddar."
On hindsight I should have got my robot phone and taken a picture of (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name.)
He was baffled. And stood there looking at me, trying to figure out, what to say next.
Which is when I blew it and started to laugh.
"You're kidding?" He asked, still a bit unsure.
"Yeah." I said. "I'm messing with you. I don't want a filling."
After that we were golden. (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) thought I was pretty cool, I guess, for messing with me and assured me that My Lovely Bride's cake would be the most kick-ass cake ever.
"Just so long as you don't pay me back for messing with you by spitting in it." I said. "Or worse."
"That's against the law." He told me.
"Dude. I'm kidding. Again." I said.
"Oh." He said handing me the receipt.
On my way out the lady who runs the deli and bakery area came up to me, pulled off her plastic hand glove for food sanitation thing, and held her hand up indicating she wanted to high-five.
Being a fan of the high-five, in all its cheesy glory, I held my hand up and gave her one.
"That was funny." She told me. "I've never seen anyone have their leg pulled so well. You really got (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) good."
"Thanks." I said. "Do me a favor?"
"Yes, sir." She said.
"Make sure (Insert Tom Thumb(job) employee's name) doesn't spit in my wife's cake for pay-back."
Until I BLOG again...I want the lot of what you got, And I want nothing that you're not.
Happy Birthday to My Lovely Bride. I truly hope her 40th is everything she wants.
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