There’s this guy who works in my office. Let’s call him “Dwight“. Dwight loves dessert. More than loves it, I think. Borderline obsession I would say. Doesn’t matter what kind – pumpkin pie, chocolate cake…as long as it contains sugar. And Dwight is always trying to flim-flam people (and by “people” I mean me) into making him some sort of dessert and bringing it in to work. He’s very good at what he does: I’ve brought birthday cakes, cupcakes, pies, and cheesecakes (both homemade and bought from the Nuns of New Skete).
He’s also very good at scamming other types of food. In the past year or so, I’ve made an entire Caribbean lunch of Jerk Chicken and Red Beans & Rice for eight people, and probably my stupidest precedent-setter ever: “Breakfast for Lunch,” including waffles with homemade fruit compote and a custom omelet station. He’s presently working a long con on me, in the form of an Indian feast for ten.
He’s also been known – on two separate occasions – to get his interns to bring in farewell cakes FOR THEMSELVES on their last day of work. In the flavor of his choosing. Boy’s got a gift.
But this time he’s outdone himself.
About a month ago, Dwight started pitching the entire 6th Floor on what he dubbed a “Pie Contest”. He personally invited select individuals to participate, and entrants would prepare a pie (or other special dessert) of their choosing and bring it to the office on October 20. He never mentioned anything about judging, but I figured at first that he must have a plan. Of course he had a plan.
October 20 is his birthday.
I figured this out quickly (thank you, recurring Outlook events), and warned everyone about the potential scam. But no one seemed to care! The suckers were going to go along with this anyway. At least five (!) people have agreed to bring in a dessert for the “contest”. Sadly, I am one of those suckers. I made a Tarte Tatin.
Well, at least I’m going to get a blog post out of this. Here’s what everyone in the office brought:
We all gathered around 1:45 for the “judging”, which really was just Dwight tasting everything. We also halfheartedly sang Happy Birthday to Dwight, chagrined that we’d been hoodwinked into supplying a birthday party for the Sultan of Sugar.
There were about 12 of us who sampled the desserts, and pretty much demolished everything. It was all terrific (my favorite was the icebox cake, which was just so amazingly awesome). Though he declared everything to be good, he refused to announce a winner. He instead issued the following statement in an attempt to encourage us all to keep up the good work:
“Everyone should enter again next year.”
And so it continues. Happy Birthday, “Dwight”. I think all of your wishes have already come true.