#3: The Cake Crossing

Note: This happened in June of 2008 and was written right after the incident. I posted it on my facebook, so you may have already read this. But for those who haven't, here it is, with some minor editing for quality improvement:

#3: The Cake Crossing

So awhile ago, I decided on a whim to take a fondant cake decorating class and tonight was the final night and we were supposed to make our final amazing-looking cake. But I didn't have much time today to prep for it because I had an English class right before my cake dec. class.

So I get home, frantically frost my cake because I don't have that much time, making the biggest mess, gather everything I need and I realize that I really have a lot of stuff to carry, including a cake. And I don't have a car. The walk wasn't far since I basically live across the street from the (giant) parking lot of the Wilkinson Center, where the class was. My roommate and friend weren't home either, and I didn't feel comfortable asking anyone else to give me a ride. And I figured it really wasn't that far and I'd done it before so I could manage. So, picture this, I'm walking along 9th east at 7 at night, bulging purse on shoulder, giant plastic bag full of cake stuff hanging on my left forearm, giant cake kit in my left hand, and the ugliest frosted cake on a cookie sheet in my right hand. And I think 7:00 must be a busy time because there were tons of cars. I felt like an idiot, but I was like, whatever, I've been in more embarrassing-looking situations.

Now, the crosswalks on 9th are too far away for me to conveniently use--I'd have to backtrack to get to one, and herds of EFY kids were crossing the other anyway. So I have to do what I call the "daily dash," meaning, wait for a gap in traffic to cross the street, which has two lanes on each side and turning lane in the middle. Keep in mind there are lots of cars, but I finally see a nice gap and begin crossing. I hadn't even reached the middle turning lane, when, without any kind of forewarning, my huge plastic bag's handles BREAK. Tupperwares of frosting and my egg carton holding my frosted flowers spill out in the middle of the road, and meanwhile cars are approaching and I can't save both the frosting and the flowers. In frantic desperation I kick the frosting out of the way of the oncoming traffic, grab the egg carton and try to hurry across the next 3 lanes with what little dignity I had, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal because I was so embarrassed and cars were slowing way down. I manage to make it across the street in one piece minus 2 tubs of frosting which had to be left behind. Keep in mind I have almost completely stopped traffic and some Provo citizen has stopped his car and is rolling down his window to see if I'm okay. I ignore him and continue my trek.

 Now I have to walk across the HUGE parking lot with a broken bag plus all my other stuff and I'm still so embarrassed, I can feel the heat of my face turning red, and the whole rest of the way I give myself a mental lecture on being assertive and asking for rides when I need them. And when I get to the building I have to press the stupid blue "handicapped" button to automatically open the doors for me because my arms are so full. Fortunately the guy behind me had some courtesy to open the next door for me. So I FINALLY make it to class. I start pulling out the things I need, and realize something horrible: all my fondant is gone. It was lying in the middle of 900 East, probably already squished by a merciless car. Of all the 8 or so frosting containers I had, the one with all of my fondant didn't make it out of the wreckage. The whole time I'm thinking "my posterity will sure get a kick out of this story when they read my journal." So I just kind of sit there dumbfounded, kind of wishing I'd just stayed home. At least I didn't get hit by a car, right? But bless my teacher's heart, when I told her where my fondant had gone she was able to get some for me from the floral shop. So you know, it all worked out. After the class was over, I called Reba to see if she could pick me up (I learned my lesson once), but she wasn't home, so I got a hold of my roommate Natalie who came to get me. So I told her about my semi-traumatic story and she laughed, and when we pulled out of the parking lot, there was my tupperware smashed in pieces in the middle of the road, right next to a sad-looking white lump of fondant frosting. We just laughed. Maybe I'll be able to clean up my mess tomorrow on the way back from class...hahaha

After note: The wreckage was never cleaned up. The day after the incident, the tupperware had been smashed by so many vehicles that it had the appearance of broken glass all over the street. My neighbors thought there had been a car accident. The fondant had become one with the road. The cake was given away. And I eventually got a car. Which got totaled three months later. (Wasn't my fault. The three other passengers can testify.)