Clareified

THE CUPCAKE KID

Magnolia’s has a rule that you can purchase no more than a dozen cupcakes at once.
No matter how crazy my obsession gets, these are guidelines I have been able to live with.
So, as per usual, I get four cupcakes boxed, to go, and one in my hand, which I’ll eat along the way. The twin goals of rationing and instant gratification nicely served.
I paid the bill and headed for the door.
I felt someone tap my shoulder.
“Excuse me, miss.”
I turn around, both checking for my cupcakes and my credit card - in that order- until they were both located.
I didn’t drop anything…what could she want?
“Yes?”
“Can you tell me how many cupcakes you just bought?”
Oh no, did they lower the limit to four? How fast can I eat this one without her seeing?
(Years ago when Karol first told me about Magnolia’s rules and lines, I scoffed. “HA! If I want two dozen, I’ll just walk in there buy a dozen, walk outside tape on a mustache and then in my best French accent say “I would like twelve cupcakes, si vous plait.”)
That was then.
I put my hand over my mouth and through a jaw full of cake and icing I muttered the number four.
“Ah gah oar” I repeated before swallowing.
The woman leaned in.
Dammit, she’s gonna do a breath test?
“Do you mind hanging around here a little bit? There are sixteen kids in my son’s class, plus the teacher. I need 5 more cupcakes.” She motioned to the empty box in her hand for emphasis.
Indeed, she had already packed twelve cupcakes into one box and had another five segregated under the case.
Having barely recovered from my worst fear that Magnolia’s security had busted me breaking their rules, I was not anxious to participate in this scheme to actually break them. What if they catch us and I get banned? Banned!
“Uh…I don’t know..” I said still choking a little bit from swallowing that first cupcake so fast.
“Please?”
“Alright.”
“Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you.”
She rushed over to the case and scooped the five cupcakes into her empty box and then grabbed another one.
We walked to the counter together.
“Hi. I’ve got twelve and I’m purchasing these six for her.”
I made eye contact with the clerk. I searched his face for any sign of reproach and prepared to bolt the minute I found any. Instead, a smile crept across his face and he rang up the 18 cupcakes on the register.
She paid him the $36 and we walked to the door.
We made it! I was safely on the street, cupcakes still in box and no lifetime ban.
So stressfull…I need a cupcake!

This entry was posted by Dawn Summers on Monday, November 29th, 2004 at 11:36 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.