Cake Walk at the Hideout

Ask me what a cake walk is, as a few of my friends and colleagues did, and I'll ask you why you hate America. It is, after all, the most wholesome activity I can think of, and the best memory anyone has of elementary school carnivals. Let's be real. 

But we can also be real and admit that last week I went to a cake walk in a bar, where I drank beer on a Wednesday. It wasn't that wholesome. And because it wasn't that wholesome, I'll remind you what's what. 

Take a look at these beauts. Instead of being donated by a team of moms, elementary-school style, this cake walk at the Hideout was full of cakes from local bakeries. 

Hello, sailors. 

Speaking of sailors, these handsome gents replaced the childhood boom box jams with some covers of Elvis and Buddy Holly tunes. 

As the band played, contestants danced their way around this circle until the music stopped at random.  The cake walk orchestrator (a friend of a friend -- good work, ladies!) drew these symbols from a hat, and the person standing on the lucky symbol won the cake of his or her choice.

Did you see that airplane wingding up there? It's the best wingding of all. Because I was standing on it and I WON A CAKE. 

It was a pumpkin pound cake from The Baked Escape, and it was delicious. I'm reminded of its tastiness and its origin every day, because the empty box is still in my refrigerator, where I've hidden it until I take my garbage out.

My date, Zoe, won a lemon pound cake. 

You can't buy that kind of joy (unless you buy a beer to speed it along). God bless America, y'all.