I’m on a mission from God. White Cake.
Mo has sent me to the store for a little square of white cake with white icing. Mo is a sucker for the white cake. If forced to choose between white cake and Matt Damon, she’d eat white cake with Mr. Damon. I just hope she never has this opportunity.
So I’m at the store trying to find a piece of cake. The only problem: There is none.
They have German chocolate, chocolate, strawberry, velvet and several mystery flavors. They have slices o’ pie from pecan to pumpkin. They have cheesecake. And beefcake. Every cake variety in the history of mankind. Except white cake.
I stand frozen with the look of a guy in the feminine-products aisle. A bakery employee comes to the rescue.
Her name’s Dora. She is one of Mo’s favorite people at the store. I explain my plight. She looks everywhere, but there is none to be had. The only white cake is the big birthday model. I take it.
I tell her that it’s for her friend Amanda. Her eyes light up. Amanda!!! You’re her wife? she asks. Dora’s English is much better than my Spanish. Yes, I tell her.
She wants to know if I would like her to write something on it. I guess she thinks there must be an event if we’re getting such a big cake. Heck, doesn’t cost nothin’. Sure, I reply. Tell her hello! Just write “Hi! Amanda.” She laughs and laughs. I laugh and laugh.
In a second, what started out as a drudge trip to the store becomes one of those magical moments in life that just happen along when you’re not paying attention.
Give her a big hug from me, she say with a bear-hug motion as I leave. I will, I promise her.
Mo loves the cake. As it turns out, it must’ve not been that big after all, since we seem to be eating it all at once.
Thanks, Dora. And take that, Matt Damon.