There has been a cake staring me in the eye for months at Starbucks. Since Lauren, Trinh, Andrew and I have basically moved in there—“Do you guys lived here,” asked one Starbucks employee–in our studying for the bar, I decided today to attempt the cake during my 4 pm lull.
“I’m in a lull,” I told a disinterested counterperson, “Please cut me a slice of your finest lemon white chocolate cake.”
She sort of stared blankly and then set to her task. Before I knew it, there was cake before me:
The cake is resting on a pile of law related work and serves as an apt metaphor for the way bar examiners treat our shriveling spirits. In other words: “Let them eat cake!’
Recruited for the lemon white chocolate cake project was my tablemate Trinh. At the ajoining table, Lauren demonstrated her disgust for all things lemon and white chocolate:
Being the gentleman that I am, I gave Trinh the first bite. She eyed the cake suspiciously:
She bit it off her fork and then pondered:
“Well?” I asked.
She remained stoic. And then:
Trinh was satisfied.