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Let them eat cake.

Submitted by on April 22, 2012 – 12:12 pmNo Comment

Cakestine Secret Cake Society takes place somewhere in Manchester, at some unknown time. The Cakestine Society is a secret society where cake-making people, by invite only, make cakes and eat them. It’s not open to just anybody, you are not allowed to bake flapjack, cup-cakes or muffins.

Having received our invitation to attend the secret cake-baking and more importantly cake-eating event, I was obviously overexcited. The opportunity to eat cake for tea without feeling guilty was an opportunity not to be missed. I had waited all my life to be able to eat just cake and nothing else. As a kid I was allowed a biscuit after tea, although I often managed to sneak two biscuits, stuffing one in my mouth while walking very slowly between kitchen and living room and nonchalantly sitting down, ceremoniously producing my single biscuit to eat. My Mum saying, ‘I know you’ve eaten two biscuits’. How did she know that? But Mums know stuff, that’s being a Mum. The idea of eating cake all evening was fantastic.

A text was received that told us of the place and time to meet. Carefully placing our cake in an old biscuit tin, so it could be transported safely to its secret destination and eaten, we set off. Tram followed by a winding walk through a deserted evening small town led us to a tiny cafe that had been commandeered for this astronomical happening.

Fifteen delicious looking cakes, sitting there seducing the eye and stimulating the taste buds. Fifteen cakes to eat, now that is something worth paying for, but this was all free, the only cost was the cost of travelling and baking your own cake.

Naïvety and inexperience, and quite a lot of greed, led me astray. I saw fifteen beautiful scrumptious cakes and I naturally wanted to eat them all.  I waited my turn in the line saying over and over again in my head, they won’t eat them all. I was anxiously contemplating the rest of the greedy gits in the line in front of me. That tall lanky bloke looks like he could eat a bit and the woman two back from him, she is really geared up, she’s got a plate and knife already to dive in and start hacking away at the cakes. I began to sweat, I started to calculate how much one person could get on their plate. Are you allowed two plates? If that’s the case then it’ll be pretty tight, there wouldn’t be much left, but there would be some. No, only one plate at a time, good. I think I’m going to make it.

I pick up my plate, trying to be cool about it, I really wanted to dive mouth first into the plethora of cake but decorum held me back. I neatly plonked slice after slice of cake on my plate, I wasn’t able to put a piece of every cake on my plate so I’d have to come back for the rest.

Sitting down, ignoring everyone and everything, the only thing that mattered now was eating cake. Eating lovely squelchy cake, exquisite statuesque cake and sublimely splendid cake. But could I go up for more?, could I fuck. I was full to bursting. Others were eating and eating and going up for more and eating again. What did I do wrong?

I ate the creamy cakes first, I drank tea and I stuffed my face. Choose delicate light cake to start with and drink water, build up to the heavy stuff. I won’t make such a novice mistake again.

 

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