Stolen Cake

The following reflection was written in 2003, when I was between 25 and 26 years old.


My eighteenth birthday should have begun with a nice birthday cake delivered by Aramark, courtesy of my parents. Unfortunately the idiots at Aramark delivered my cake to the wrong Cluster House. Even more unfortunately, the kids at that Cluster House decided that my cake was theirs to have since it had arrived at their place.

My birthday did begin with Peter’s Perspective On The Arts class, if I recall correctly. I had English on MWF and Peter’s class on the other two days at the same time. That’s the way I recall it. Anyway, if it did begin with Peter’s class then chances are it was an okay beginning. I dug Peter’s class more than English. That’s for sure.

What else happened during the day? Well, I wish I could tell you. I don’t have many other memories of the daylight hours. The next big memory I have is of attending the open-mic night where Nathan got up on stage and sang the song “Happy Birthday To Me” and dedicated it to me. That was pretty cool because I thought Nate was a good guy and one of the more liked guys on campus. The fact that he’d mentioned me by name made me feel all kinds of birthday special.

After Nate’s performance I headed back to my Cluster. There I discovered that my birthday cake had finally arrived. My RA had been over to the other house, which he was also responsible for, and he’d grabbed the cake for me. He’d stolen a couple slices with his friends before he returned it to me, but I guess I was just supposed to understand that.

A large portion of the remainder of the cake was consumed by the two crazy girls from upstairs who sat on my bed and ate it and occasionally fed me a bite. The two girls eating the cake with me kind of made up for the fact that there was barely any of it left when it got to me.