Red Velvet and I have a tumultuous history. At first bite; just a few short years ago from a bakery named Buttercup, there was love. "Love at first Bite?", catchy eh? I swear that wasn't done on purpose.
Like all relationships, this one evolved. Commitment was the next step, as I chose Mr. Velvet to be the guest of honor at my wedding. The guest of honor that everyone eats. I remember sitting in the catering hall office, asking if there was anything at all that could be substituted for the traditional (yawn) fondant and buttercream. I could easily have paid for a cake at an outside bakery, however when you are building a bar from scratch, complete with lighting technicians and mini palm trees, cake gets moved to the back of the priority list pretty quickly. And so, Red Velvet, my catering manager promised me, was "Not a problem, not at all". Trust was born.
So much so, that I didn't even ask for a tasting.
Mr. Velvet and I had a good run, and as the wedding day approached, we were on very good terms. Until the cutting of the cake. The happiest day of my life had one glitch, my cake tasted like a type of tropical fruit. What kind? I have no idea, it was that ambiguous. To quote my grandmother, "Beautiful Cake, so many FLAVORS!" Need I go on? That's what I thought.
I swore off Mr. Velvet and his undelivered promises. I considered myself lucky to have the cake be my only problem on my wedding day, and "cut" my losses. (there I go again!) We immediately broke things off and hadn't seen each other again until yesterday afternoon, when I decided to give him another chance. I didn't realize Mr. Velvet had a vengeful side, until I found a piece of a creepy crawly in my "Crumbs" cupcake.
If there's one phrase to sum up how indescribably shiteous this week has been, "There's a bug in my Red Velvet" would be it. Yes, this week involved the severing of important relationships in my life, some that will most likely leave a wound forever. I say, you have no choice but to let go of relationships that cause you nothing but grief. Goodbye Mr. Velvet, I'll miss you.
Like all relationships, this one evolved. Commitment was the next step, as I chose Mr. Velvet to be the guest of honor at my wedding. The guest of honor that everyone eats. I remember sitting in the catering hall office, asking if there was anything at all that could be substituted for the traditional (yawn) fondant and buttercream. I could easily have paid for a cake at an outside bakery, however when you are building a bar from scratch, complete with lighting technicians and mini palm trees, cake gets moved to the back of the priority list pretty quickly. And so, Red Velvet, my catering manager promised me, was "Not a problem, not at all". Trust was born.
So much so, that I didn't even ask for a tasting.
Mr. Velvet and I had a good run, and as the wedding day approached, we were on very good terms. Until the cutting of the cake. The happiest day of my life had one glitch, my cake tasted like a type of tropical fruit. What kind? I have no idea, it was that ambiguous. To quote my grandmother, "Beautiful Cake, so many FLAVORS!" Need I go on? That's what I thought.
I swore off Mr. Velvet and his undelivered promises. I considered myself lucky to have the cake be my only problem on my wedding day, and "cut" my losses. (there I go again!) We immediately broke things off and hadn't seen each other again until yesterday afternoon, when I decided to give him another chance. I didn't realize Mr. Velvet had a vengeful side, until I found a piece of a creepy crawly in my "Crumbs" cupcake.
If there's one phrase to sum up how indescribably shiteous this week has been, "There's a bug in my Red Velvet" would be it. Yes, this week involved the severing of important relationships in my life, some that will most likely leave a wound forever. I say, you have no choice but to let go of relationships that cause you nothing but grief. Goodbye Mr. Velvet, I'll miss you.
-KJ
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