Through the power of my imagination I am now in the show tapped into the crew of the motor super yacht Synergy!
The produc...err...I mean guests have asked us to put on a talent show for them on the second night of charter.
What will I do? Not blessed by any musical acumen or particularly good looks I would tell them an amusing anecdote...
I briefly lived in a small central New York town in the mid 00s. It was the biggest town for about 15 miles in any direction but even then it just had one gas station and yet two video rental stores. Also one of those towns that basically stopped on Sundays. Not out of any sense of piety but just due to sheer ennui. There wasn't anything else to talk about or do by Saturday night. So, the whole village of 1500 people or so just need a reset. Only things open were the coffee shop, the laundromat, and the dollar store.
At the time I wad dating my then girlfriend, now wife, and our dating anniversary rolled around late February.
I am horrible gift giver. I had something but it took everything I had not just to give it to her the moment I bought it.
"HERE! LOVE ME!"
I then was filled with doubt as the piece of sterling silver jewelry from the local 10000 Villages store was likely not enough for an anniversary. I'll make her something! A cake! White cake with white frosting, her favorite.
It being Sunday meant only store open was the dollar store. It had cake mix but only yellow and frosting but only chocolate. That's fine. It's still cake! When I got back to my apartment I realized I had no eggs, which Duncan Hines told me was key to said cake. There was no options for eggs beyond ask a neighbor (truly terrifying as a millenial) or walk a mile in the winter chill to the gas station over the village line, which, maybe had eggs.
So, fuck it, I just used extra vegetable oil. Same difference, right? It's yellow and full of fat.
The cake baked up in a quivering yet still solid mass. It was likely a fire hazard, ready to blaze with even an errant spark. It was heavy, just full of oil and suffocated flour. "Like biting into a pimple," is what my girlfriend described it as. As a child, my mother would give baby oil to drip over our backyard aluminum slide and then wax paper to sit on while we slide.
We were human torpedoes. I imagine this cake could drip out a good run if pressed to top of the key
Oil cake then became a short hand for horrible food in our relationship.
Rascal House Pizza? Oil cake!
The white bread, lettuce and mustard sandwiches our son makes? Oil cake!
Let them eat oil cake and either die (I'm addition to being horrible to eat it was even more horrible for you than cake!) or slip away free off friction
*Fwiw my dream crew
Captain: Glenn! (Such a nice guy!)
Bosun/First Mate: Eddie! (A bit basic but solid)
Head Stew: Daisy! (My wild Irish rose!)
Chef: Marcos! (Everything is a banger!)
Stew 1: Ross (I have him here as a stew but i know he was chief for a season. Mr. Olander!)
Stew 2: Scarlett! (Real shame we only got her for like three episodes)
Deck hand 1: Tony! (He can fire dance and loves getting up early)
Deck hand 2: Lara! (I love the way she says her name "Laaaaa---RAH!" and she fills the obligatory having someone from South Africa on the boat
Location: Caribbean
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