Gary did not help with the leaves, even though It. Was. 70. Degrees. In. November, which is God’s way of saying “I really wish thou would clean up thine yard this year.” Because of this, Gary had to buy me dinner.
As we were eating, I was explaining the very little I needed to do for the Divorcee Soiree on Saturday, which includes making the Eat Me Cake. I explained, “It’s a cake shaped generally like a man, with chocolate shavings for the hair and goatee, and then a smallish banana rising out of some chocolate shavings between the legs. But, I don’t know what flavor to make it. I guess yellow would be good — “
“Excuse me,” the lady in the booth behind Gary turned and said, “I was eavesdropping.” (And that was when I fell in love with Woman in Next Booth. “I was eavesdropping.”) She continued, “Did you say you were having a divorce party with a cake?”
“An Eat Me Cake!” I said to my new friend.
“My daughter is going through a messy divorce. She would love that. That’s a great idea, to throw a party. So what’s this cake look like…you say there’s a banana?”
(I’ve never actually seen one of these cakes. I believe the banana is Robin’s idea. Robin said “plantain,” to be specific. But it’s what I assume.) I said, “Oh yes. A banana. I figure that’s where the knife goes first.”
At any rate, Catherine’s “Eat Me Cake” suggestion is finding a niche here in the Midwest.
10 responses to “Let Them Eat the Ex”
Mwahahaha. Phase 1 of My Plan To Take Over The Country is a success – A SUCCESS!
I’m curious to see which way the banana will curve…
Catherine – bring on Phase 2!I was debating that too, Robin. Curving up? Or curving down tucked between his legs? Or are you talking left vs right?
Isn’t a banana rather generous considering the brainless jerk in question?
Dude, I suggested a cashew. Robin shook her head and said, “plantain.” She would know.
This is gonna be the Best. Cake. Ever!
Banana/plaintain makes sense – much more fun to cut into than a cashew.Did you share the soundtrack with the woman in the restaurant?
Will there be a ceremonial Bobbit-ing? Slicing the phallus, taking it for a ride and throwing out of the car?
I’ve had enough of that particular fruit. Besides, The Queen would have a FIT if she thought I was intimately involved with the Ex’s plaintain.
Vaguely – I thought about it, but it seemed to me she might never confess to eavesdropping again (or “earjacking” as the kids call it) if I got too chatty.Marcia – we can’t drink and drive. No car rides for the plantain.Robin – damn straight.