"Oh I hate it when they do that."

I never eat fast food, I hardly ever buy junk food, and I don't buy processed foods very often. (Don't worry, this won't be a holier than thou diatribe on why we should eat only fresh foods . . . which we should.) Occasionally the need for junk food strikes me and, well, I have my weaknesses.

So I was Whole Foods and the first thing I picked up was single serving chocolate cake parfait because sometimes a single girl needs cake and vodka on a Friday night. I couldn't wait to get home and be a total fatty and consume said cake in front of my television before spacing out for a few hours. And boy was I surprised to find NO CAKE in my bag when I got home.

Fucking bastards!

Meanwhile Jane is trying to have a conversation with me about the cable bill and I'm searching vainly through my groceries for the missing parfait.

Me: "Damnit!"

Jane: "What's wrong?"

Me: "They forgot to bag something!"

Jane: "Oh I hate it when they do that. What are you missing?"

Me: "Cake!" I exclaim in a wallowing tone not unlike that of a four-year-old.
"I wanted cake tonight!"

Then my cell phone rang. I rushed from the kitchen hoping it was Whole Foods apologizing for not bagging my cake and promising to rush over a replacement. No, it was my landlord telling me that someone was coming by on Sunday to appraise the apartment. Maybe they'll bring me cake.