There was some cake leftover that my colleague had brought in. Well, leftover from Thanksgiving. It was a strawberry cheesecake, and it was heavy. Heavy as in you needed effort to lift it kind of heavy. There was half a cake left as my colleague tried to get my other colleagues to eat some but didn’t quite succeed. Somehow, the cake landed on my desk. I was given a bet, that if I could finish that remaining half a piece of cake, I’d get $100.
I gave a time limit of 6pm, so had about 4 1/2 hours to devour it. This was no ordinary cheesecake and when you plonk a slab of it on your plate, you could really hear the thud. I just had lunch, so managed only a semi big chunk. I laboured at the cake and was only half serious when I took the bet. The more I chewed on the cake, the more I knew it wasn’t happening. This cake was like just cream cheese, with all the liquids sucked dry from it. It was darn tasty, but half a cake that was probably 8 inches in diameter.
So I laboured and I laboured. Washed the cake down with black coffee but soon that became unfeasible as the coffee quickly turned cold. It really isn’t something you can compact and hide in your stomach, as it is already compacted as it is. By 5pm, I knew it was a futile task. I had only managed to eat 20% of that remaining half and I’m sure I could have eaten another 20% of that, but there’s no point. I didn’t want to destroy my stomach under those circumstances.
So I failed. Failed, to finish the cake. As good as it was, unfortunately, the rest went into a bin. And sadly so.
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