Yesterday brought a merciful end to a very tough week at work. As 5pm approached, I yearned for a Happy Hour of some sort. Just a few years back that would have included pitchers of margaritas or cold beer or big pours of wine. But these days I find myself vacillating between food or drink as the drug of choice. On this day, I craved the comfort of sugar.


So off I went, racing toward my favorite cupcakery praying I would arrive before the 6pm closing time. Fighting rush hour traffic is always challenging but Fridays even more so. I navigated the 5 miles as quickly as possible – even noticing a hearse queued up in the drive-through lane at the bank (a final withdrawal, an afterlife deposit?) – and pulled up at the front door at 5:56! Immediately, I notice the “OPEN” sign was still hanging in the window – YIPPEE!!!


The sugary aroma greeted me like a long lost friend before I even crossed the threshold. Entering, I was drenched in the warm embrace of an intoxicating sugar/flour cocktail. My spirits buoyed, I turned toward the cupcake display case to make my selection.


The picken’s were slim indeed, but for the proprietors, that meant the day went well. They both apologized and saluted themselves as they explained that to me. I assured them I was just grateful to have made it before closing and I began to make my 6-pak selection.


As they took my money and boxed up my half-dozen the clock struck 6. I felt a little like Cinderella in that moment.


“We’re just gonna throw the rest of these out now so we can start fresh in the morning. If we box these up, will you take them off our hands for us?”


Disbelieving, I glanced over my shoulder to see if I had been magically transported to the Pearly Gates, but St Peter was nowhere to be found. I guess it was just my lucky day!


Out of gratitude for my windfall I purchased two chocolate chip cookies and promised I would be a customer for life.


And gleefully carried my 18 cupcakes out to my coach and four.