<"Happy Corona Day...To Nobody In Particular"
The Reckoner>
<i.>
Here at Ramen Noodle Nation HQ, it's fascinating -- and sickening -- to see so many newsmakers determined not to let COVID-19 cramp their style. We got another grim reminder of this reality last week, with the sudden diagnosis and hospitalization of Superspreader-In-Chief, a certain D. Trump, his First Lady, Melania, along with many of their noxious inner circle, including Pres Secretary Kayleigh McEnany and her two deputies, campaign manager Bill Stempien, and three Republican Senators who attended Supreme Court nominee Amy Coney Barrett's coming out party.
The ironies of illness spreading from an event designed to showcase the Republican's ruthless desire to cram Barrett down the national gullet need no further elaboration. Neither does Trump's newfound COVID-19 status, even as he's already fled back to the White House, pronouncing himself fit as a fiddle. He's already demonstrated, many, many times, that a man's gotta golf, even with a national death toll hitting 210,000, and climbing.
Here in our town, though, the desire for some kind of "new normal" makes itself felt in unusual ways, like the bakery counter at Matthew's, where I found myself seeking one of my favorite treats: a piece of cake, which sells for $1.89. I usually get a couple at a time as an after dinner treat, though like many items these days, your chances of getting it are often hit or miss.
This time, however, my timing proved perfect, as the baker popped out from behind those gray metal double doors, pushing a cart brimming with some three dozen or so chocolate, marble, vanilla, the odd slices with whipped cream...you name it, she had it, as she wheeled to a stop near a shelf, and began putting them out.
"Hey, I always wondered something," I asked. "Are any of these pieces ever freshly made? Or are they discards from somebody's birthday cake, that nobody picked up?"
The baker flashed a knowing smile. You know better than to ask something like that. "Well, they are mostly discards, about 95% of them," she nodded.
"How does that work out, exactly?" I wondered.
"See, what happens is..." The baker paused from her task. Once more, she gave me a wry smile. "A lot of times, people order a cake from here, and then, they'll order one from somewhere else..."
"So they'll pick up the one that's cheaper?" I guessed.
"Yup, exactly." You've done well, dude, her wink suggested. "Some people are assholes like that."
"Sign of the times, I guess."
"Yeah, something like that." The baker rolled her eyes,. "It's gotten to the point, where we know they who are, because..."
"It's always the same people," I finished. "Do you ditch those cakes, at a certain point, if they sit here too long?"
"Eventually, but they go pretty quick. Unless it has writing on it. Then nobody wants it." She furrowed her brow, and glanced at her cart. She wasn't annoyed, but this time, her glance suggested, I gotta get back to it, before someone spots me.
"Oh, okay, I got it. Thanks for educating me," I said.
"You're welcome," the baker responded. She began taking out two cake pieces at a time, since she had a full cart to put out.
It's been a week, maybe a week and a half, since I've seen so many cake pieces in one place. Who knows what next time may bring? It's hardly on the level of a ventilator, let alone a mask, or even a pair of gloves, of which you still hear about shortages, periodically, though not as much as when all this madness started.
But even so, I have a feeling that I'll miss that next piece most, when it doesn't show up at the bakery. Small pleasures are funny like that, sometimes. --The Reckoner
<Sign O'The Times/The Management Regrets...
The Reckoner>
No comments:
Post a Comment