Warm and Moist

As is our biweekly custom, Jeff, Rakesh, Rick and I went to lunch at one of our favorite spots, on a day we were almost certain we would not be summoned for an ERT call. This particular restaurant, Hobee's, features a most delicious low-fat coffee cake. I habitually have one with my omelet, sharing with the rest of the group.

This day, as it was Valentine's Day, I was wearing a reddish blouse and a nice necklace. As we were chatting up our usual banter, I lifted a forkful of the awesome coffee cake towards my mouth.

And watched, as it fell right down my blouse.

Uh-oh.

Maybe nobody noticed. I might be able to escape to the restroom. Rick and Jeff were absorbed in their story, but Rakesh saw the whole thing. His laughter, the placement of my fork, and my beet-red face, gave away to the others what had happened.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I looked down my blouse.

It was in there alright. Stuck in the opening of my V-Day push-up bra.

Damnit.

In front of all of these guys, whom I am proud to call my friends, I meticulously picked out the offending piece of cake, and put it on an empty plate.

Their laughter was so loud and raucous, it was gaining attention from the entire section of the restaurant. I hope none of the other patrons figured out what had happened.

It took several minutes for my face to return to a normal color.

Later, at work, Rakesh stopped by my desk to rib me about the events at lunch. He asked,

"How's that coffee cake doing ?"

"Warm. And moist."

"Good. Danny will enjoy it later on I'm sure."