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How Clementine Saved My Day

If it wasn't for this cupcake, I might have punched someone. That someone might have been you.

BLERG! I lost my wallet today, which is crappy enough. Seriously, the weekend of the Westword Music Showcase AND Gay Pride? Gimme a break. Plus – a suspicious charge for something like “Walshawitz Enterprises”  was made to my debit card, pending for about $20 this morning. Double blerg. I hadn’t used the card since Wednesday. I sat down with a banker at Wells Fargo downtown to hash it out.  The banker, Rachel, was patient, and indulged my geeky librarian request to search the Secretary of State’s business registration database. Walshawitz is apparently the cover name for Gigi’s Cupcakes (and by extension, Pinky The Cupcake Camper!). Hooray! That’s right. My last purchase was on Wednesday, and it was for $20 worth of cupcakes. I don’t require much, apparently. But they were freaking delicious, each and every one. The Southern Comfort was the belle of the ball!

Turns out, Rachel is a fan of cupcakes (her niece is the cupcake master at Pajama Baking Company!), and she occasionally will cheat on PBC with a Gigi’s cupcake.  She also remembers meeting and really liking Denon of  Cupcake Truck fame back when they were shopping around for a new bank. Wonderful! I’m talking cupcakes with my banker instead of identity theft.  Cupcakes, lightened mood. Things are looking up! But it gets better.

Enter, Denver Cupcake Truck

Rachel heads out to get my temp ATM card (after making sure I have another form of ID so I can get my drunk on all weekend). While she’s out, I check Facebook on my phone, and I learn that the Denver Cupcake Truck is parked around the corner from me at that very moment, and has “Friday Fetti” on board. Hilarious. I mention it to Rachel, and she seems delighted! I get my card, leave the bank, and find Clementine. Sean, The Cupcake Guy, asks me if I’m okay – I look glum. I tell him my tale of woe, including the fact that I had cheated on him with Gigi’s.  Even with that infidelity revealed, he’s still kind enough to send me on my way with a box full of sugary goodness. Two Mile High Mochas and two Friday Fettis to go.  One for me, one for Rachel, and one for each of my officemates. Everybody is freaking happy! Hooray!

Rachel, thanks for making a shitty situation fun – or at least funny. I hope you weren’t freaked out by the sudden appearance of an unwrapped cupcake on your desk. I suspect the security cameras can verify that I didn’t tamper with it. And Clementine, just so you know? I devoured that Mile High Mocha in approximately 3 bites.  And without it, I may have slapped someone.