Another Piece of Cake

Yesterday’s post brought back an unpleasant memory, but it also brought an insight with it.

When I turned forty, I was in a very bad position.  I was half owner of a business that was draining all my resources; stuck with an amoral  partner who was shoving all of our income up his nose. 

We were strangers who had each been given the opportunity to acquire half of the business from the previous owner on the theory that we would be good for each other. 

God, was he wrong.

Here’s where the cake comes into the story:

On my fortieth birthday, my partner threw me a surprise party at work, complete with a stripper and a cake that was an anatomically correct, if overly well endowed, female torso.  The cake featured molded chocolate body parts and shredded cocoanut pubic hair.  I thought the whole thing was immature, embarrassing, and downright offensive.

Thinking back, I realize this may have been the only truly good thing he ever did for me.   I’ve come to understand that, misguided as it was, he gave me exactly what he would have wanted for his birthday.