Camille and I were heading downtown to a bakery that featured a cupcake of the month. Camille spotted it in one of the free newspapers they hand out by the subway. She never takes the train, just the free paper.
“Just think, we’ll have a great time for what, five bucks? How much could a coupla cupcakes cost, even the winner?”
“If you add the cab fare getting down there Camille, it’s not gonna be so cheap.”
“A minor detail…besides, I’ll pay for the taxi. I owe you one since you paid that last time from Bemelmans…remember?”
“How could I forget. You were passed out across my lap.”
“Which was why I couldn’t get to my wallet.”
As we cruised down Park, Camille insisting it was faster, I too started to get excited over having a cupcake. After giving up sugar for close to six months, it was going to be such a treat. Who knew how surprised we’d be when we got there.
Turned out, the cupcake of the month was named Brenda who lived in Nutley New Jersey. It’s a contest they have where women, and some very pretty men, enter by submitting cheesecakey or in this case, cupcakey, photos of themselves. There’s an actual panel who picks.
“Are you kidding? Christ Camille, didn’t the ad explain any of this?”
“All I saw was cupcake of the month and the address. How was I supposed to know?”
“We can still have one, but it won’t be singled out…not unless you want to take a bite out of Brenda.”
Camille made a shivering gesture. “Ugh, look at her, she looks like a stripper holding hormonally baked, baked goods.” Brenda’s picture was hanging with a huge cupcake in her bare, succulent but well-toned-arms.
“Lets have a Brenda, ” I said, deciding to overlook the faux-pas, “look, she’s devil food inside with lemony sugar on top.”
Despite Camille’s face I ordered four. We sat and had a sweet orgy…just me, her and two Brendas apiece.
Like my late, great friend Jackie used to say, when you get lemons, you make lemonade….or in this case. lemony cupcakes, from Nutley New Jersey.