Our office is like a 24 hour restaurant. If you miss breakfast, don't sweat it, because the odds are like 2 out of 3 that someone has brought in donuts, or muffins, or cake, or chips and salsa, or vegetables from their garden, or brownies, or cookies, or something. It's amazing. The other day we had a farewell party for a lady leaving, and of course they order a cake the size of Rhode Island.
Not a good situation for Andy, because if there's one person on the planet who hates to see perfectly good, freshly baked cake go to waste, well, to quote Snoop Doggy Dogg, "He is I and I am him." So of course I had a piece. And of course it was delicious. No harm no foul right? Wrong.
So now I've had my one piece, and I'm totally set. However, there's about 60 freshly cut pieces of cake looking at me. I can tell they're judging me too. I want another piece, but I know if I eat it, I'll feel like crap. But it's free cake! And it's good cake too. Very moist. I like how there's only two things are acceptable to call moist: cake and that other thing that we won't mention because this is a family blog. But I find that interesting. Anyways, back to the story....
Of course I have to eat another piece. Of course I felt like crap afterwards. Kristi, one of the very very few people at the office I can relate to, also had a second piece, and also felt the crappiness that comes with doubling up on farewell cake. So we made a pact to keep each other away from the office food. Here's where things just got bizarre.
We pinky swore on this.
We're in our mid to late twenties, and we pinky swore over keeping each other away from cake.
It gets worse.
It was my idea.
A married man with a baby on the way pinky swearing. I don't understand me sometimes. I felt ashamed the rest of the day. Really, I had trouble sleeping that night, wondering what possessed me to pinky swear. I'd never pinky sworn in my life....why now? Why over cake? So yesterday I went to work and apologized to Kristi for putting her in the awkward position of having to pinky swear with me. She laughed, but then she said "well how else would you make a pact about cake? It's not a handshake sort of deal." This is true. Kristi also has this strange thing with high fives. She doesn't do them, so that was out. No handshakes, no high fives......signing a contract in blood seemed a little too extreme as well. So we figured we were either down to a fist pound or a pinky swear. Fist bumping is something you do after hitting a homerun, making a particularly dirty (but funny) joke, or celebrate your team scoring a touchdown. A little too manly for "we're not eating cake anymore!"
I guess there are still times when it's ok for a man to pinky swear.
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