Once upon a time, some very important people had a very important business lunch. Business lunches were salmon or chicken Caesar salad and Diet Coke, and jewel-toned suits for the women and charcoal or black suits for the men, forced laughter, and a cup of black coffee at the end, everybody knows that, but at this particular business lunch, the manager of the restaurant brought out a complimentary tray of dessert.

It was amazing! It was a huge tray of tarts piled with glazed fruits, and little glass pots filled with trifle and mousse, and chocolate-covered strawberries the size of eggs, and a pastel rainbow of macarons, and in the center, there was this giant brick of cake, which the server split open to reveal a sort of geologic formation with strata of chocolate and caramel and raspberry and whipped cream.

Everyone was thrilled! But because it was a fucking business lunch, they each had to ooh and aah, and then take one paltry macaron, profess fullness and vague disinterest, and go back to talking about business.

The dessert tray wilted in the middle of their tiresome conversation, like a giant, neglected monument to everything that was colorful and interesting about life.

After they left, the manager hauled the nearly untouched dessert tray back into the kitchen, and the cooks and the bussers and the barista and bartender and managers and food runners and servers had the best afternoon ever! They turned up the kitchen radio and shoved cake in each other’s faces like they’d just been married, and they all got totally hammered, too, because why the hell not? Later, a lot of them went out dancing.


  1. I like it! You could do a similar one in which they only sample the desserts and then trash the leftovers so no one else can eat them.


  2. Hope EE says:

    Ah ah ah! Yes. Followed by: Someone brought cake to the office, because this is what you are supposed to do when it’s someone’s birthday. So the rest of the day, no business was conducted, only frantic running from cube to cube shouting “Someone eat this cake! Someone please wrap this cake up and take it home… I can’t be near this cake get this damn cake out of my face!” Until someone finally threw out the cake, and everyone got back to work.

    Which is further proof of what you’ve shown here: cake is the kryptonite of really boring work.


    1. Elizabeth says:

      Seriously. Along with the temp trying to sneak in to the break room to get seconds and thirds on cake without anyone spotting her, because she can’t afford to spend $10 on lunch.


  3. Sara B says:

    And the temp who is gluten intolerant eats the cake anyway and then falls asleep at her desk, waking up 2 hours later wondering how long she has been sleeping. She’s certain she is about to be fired, but hey maybe no one even walked by. Later that night she kills herself.


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