Bakery Cakery Dock

Like I said, I'm turning 26 for the seventh time next week and the Great Cake War has begun.  This is something that has been happening for about three years now; I'll explain.  So ever since before my mom was born, I have been going to one bakery for all of my cake needs, and getting the same exact cake - wedding cake (that silver/white kind) with white frosting, from a Jewish bakery in the town next to me.  The bakery itself was horrendous, the people were totally mean and terrible, but they made my favorite cake ever so I didn't care.  Also, sometimes if the grandson was working, I'd flirt with him and he'd give me a free half-moon.  Anyway, so when I got married a few years ago, obviously they had to make my wedding cake.  They didn't actually know how to make wedding cakes, as nobody ever wanted them to do it, but I was insistent.  It had to look EXACTLY like all of my birthday cakes for the past 28 years (yes I understand this math is illogical when compared with the first sentence of this post, suck it) and the guy was pissed.  He wanted to be fancy (note: the baker is 54890 years old, tiny and crotchety and wears the same polyester old-man pants and top combo everyday.  I highly doubt he's checking out Martha Stewart Weddings for the hottest trends) but I said NO.  I just wanted plain frosting, plain roses (tons of them, but birthday cake roses), and some swirls.  That was IT.  Eventually, he did make my dream come true, but as a sneaky f-u to me, he put this crazy elasticized thing that I can only describe as "old lady cake underpants" around the bottom tier to put his own little thumbprint on the whole disaster, but the point of this story is that not five minutes after the bar closed at my wedding, this bakery went out of business.  OUT OF BUSINESS.  It was sort of like they had done all they could, reached the pinnacle of finally having someone want to have them bake a wedding cake (which has to be the ultimate honor for a bakery, right?) and they were spent.  Or that 480389 year old man died.  I don't know.

Cake and cake underpants
So, there you go.  OUT OF BUSINESS.  I have literally never enjoyed cake anywhere else.  So what to do? 

If you are me, you will refuse all birthday cakes from then on and act like a total jerk about the whole situation.  So that is what I am doing now.  I dramatically told my husband I didn't want a birthday cake and, being the awesome guy that he is, found another place that makes the same kind of cake.  The only catch is, for silver cake, you have to get one that feeds 40 people.  I have three friends.  That's not going to fly.  So here I am, moaning and whining again.  But it can't be helped.  Maybe boyfriend should have left the bakery to his sexy grandson.  I'm sure I'd be knee-deep in frosting and roses at this very moment.

Sigh.  It's hard being me.

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