So The Lady In The Bakery Says To Me...

"I hate people like you."

And I threw my head back and guffawed, replying, "You have no idea!" Even though I wanted to leap across the glass case and lather her with kisses.

Can you guess what led up to this exchange?

Updated 10/22/08, The Mystery Revealed;
So, I go into the bakery with the best buttercream icing I've found since the demise of Pakula's in Spring Valley, looking for slices of cake for sale. They have none. So I scope out the birthday cakes, remembering that not long ago I had a birthday, and instead of cake I had tears. So I'm feeling indulgent and reckless, and I get a price for the cake with no chocolate, no writing, and lemon on the inside, like my dream slices were. She said to me "14.95".

And I was like "WHAT?!" Because I'm pretty sure that when I was a lad buying Pakula cakes, they were that same price. I challenge anyone to walk into their local, best-in-butter-baking bakery and price a birthday cake.

That thing was so affordable and I was SO jonesing for a mouth full of that buttercream. Or two. Or an evening's worth. The lady looked at my expression and she said, "Oh so they picked you to come get the cake, huh?" thinking that the torn conflict on my face was due to someone else. I shook my head and grinned a little.

"No," says I. "I just...I originally hoped you'd have just a slice instead. The cupcakes have the same icing on it, right?" This was my attempt at small talk. I knew good and damn well what was on the cupcakes. But if I kept my mouth running I thought I'd be able to buy time while my superego clicked in and prevented a cake sale. Because I'd have that cake eaten by the weekend if I took it home. Alone.

"Ah, somebody has a sweet tooth," the bakery lady said.

"How do you do it?" I asked the lady. How can you work here and not eat everything all day?"

"I don't touch the stuff. I can't stand it."

"What?!?" It was as if she had just told me that sex was a plot by Bush to make people slaves of the Alpha Centurians.

"Isn't that terrible? I don't eat it, and yet look at me."

I did my best not to. She was referring to her portly frame. Very Rosie O'Donnell. What was I supposed to do?

"And yet here comes someone like you, who gets to eat all the sweets he wants. And look at you." she said. "I hate people like you."

And I threw my head back and guffawed, replying, "You have no idea!" Even though I wanted to leap across the glass case and lather her with kisses.

She was implying grandly that I didn't look like a man who needed to monitor his weigh, or care about his buttercream intake.

**MMMWAH!!!**

I do, at various times, recieve sideways compliments about my looks, AND I LOVE IT. I feel like I'm on the upswing of a new wave of attractiveness. The whole "am I gay, am I not" thing had me feeling unformed, unattractive, unsure, uneverything.

Now I'm starting to notice the compliments again.

Feels good.

Even with my belly, I'm starting to feel like one sexy poppa.

Oh by the way, I walked out of the store with three cupcakes, no bag. They were et within the hour.

NOMNOMNOM.