The Red (Velvet Cake) Dragon

During my time in the kitchen I’ve learned that a story rests between the lines of every recipe.  With each preparation comes a new story.  This story is about Evil and a Red Velvet Cake.  

I met Evil several years ago through Albert, a mutual friend for whom Evil harbors deep resentment and animosity.  Albert unknowingly taps into the insecurities, paranoia, envy and self-loathing that propel Evil’s attempt to best his perceived opponent at every opportunity.  Though never successful, he convinces himself otherwise.  He delights in Albert’s personal disappointments, vehemently distrusts him, yet continues to cultivate a “friendship,” motivated by a misguided belief that one must keep enemies close.

After our initial meeting I didn’t see Evil again until this weekend.  We almost met socially the night my best friend, who works with Evil’s former partner, invited me to an office movie outing.  Though expected, Evil failed to appear as he was frolicking on Fire Island. Our interaction has always remained confined to online chats and, most recently, text messages.  Last week he invited me via text to his mother’s birthday party and asked if I would bake Red Velvet cupcakes for the occasion. I accepted and agreed if he would supply a muffin pan.  He agreed to purchase one in the days to follow.  When the pan failed to appear I purchased my own, curious to see if my recipe translated to cupcakes. I wasn’t extremely motivated to add more finger foods to his “planned” menu.  I tried, but failed to create cupcakes.   

Contacting Evil the night before, I told him it would have to be a cake. He was amenable and graciously offered to send a car for me which I declined. Besides being a devoted strap-hanger, I had decided to drop off the cake and return home.  I didn't have a good feeling about the evening.  I didn't even put effort into my attire.  To appease him and keep options open, I agreed to accept the car service upon leaving the party since there was "a driver on stand-by."  Because he's pretentious and claims to be the bastion of exquisite taste, I expected he might pay me for my services, but didn't count on it. Since nothing he'd done so far indicated he had an ounce of social grace.  I hadn't even received a written invitation with the basics, like time and location of the event.  I knew he lived somewhere in or near Queens and decided the ride home could potentially serve as payment, but still prepared myself for the MTA.

We met in Manhattan and proceeded to the Gramercy Square apartment of Len, a man Evil is ardently pursuing -- so much I became exhausted watching him hover about.  He exuded such frenetic energy that, being no stranger to recreational drugs; I asked if he’d been doing bumps.

“He’s been this way since I met him,” Len said.

“And you’re not tired?” I wanted to ask, but his phone rang.  During Evil’s attempt to engage me in mindless chatter, I passively ear-hustled Len’s conversation and heard “rehearsal dinner in Asbury Park.”  Being from that area, I was intrigued to find out who he knew in my neck of the New Jersey woods.  I didn’t know his friends, but discovered he was also a Garden State native, providing a springboard to conversation I actually found engaging. Our talk continued as we walked toward Union Square to meet Len's friend Nicolette.  She would accompany us on the trip.

The train ride was hateful.  Two people, who infrequently leave their borough, were schlepping out to Queens on not one, but two trains. Nicolette was GAGGING! Queens is clearly not her ministry, but that wasn't her major cause for concern. They had another timed event to attend and Evil purposely misrepresented the distance, knowing his invitation would have been politely declined. The Manhattanites were a bit flustered, but I’ve learned to recognize a scam. I remained cool, texting Albert all the way about how Evil was clearly bamboozling the unsuspecting couple.  I was curious to see how things would play out.

We arrived at the home, a lovely space that, besides being moderately clean, was hardly party ready. There were certainly no finger foods.  I even had to rummage in kitchen drawers for a cork screw. UNACCEPTABLE!  He floated about, attempting to make the place "sexy" as he calls it and I conversed further with Len and Nicolette, discovering common interests and cultivating mutual admiration.  I like them a lot. I even learned things that will benefit me professionally. In fact, we got along so famously, they invited me to accompany them to their other event. I gladly accepted, realizing my function for Evil was served the moment I poured frosting on the cake. To my surprise a car did arrive and Evil relayed the destination to a very professional driver.  I began to believe maybe he had some class after all.  When Len paid the driver from his own pocket, I regained faith in my gut.  

In my haste to depart, I left phone and glasses sitting on a table, which I didn't discover until I was safely home for the night.  Evil, upon discovering my phone, promptly read the text messages that I admit were unflattering. One in particular was "He's not actually related to George Washington, but a distant, distant, distant relative, named Lester Washington... and he was a big liar." It must have upset him greatly, justifiably so.  I went online to shop for a new phone.  Surprising me yet again, he offered to deliver my phone and glasses yesterday, for which I was grateful. When he arrived, I handed him a thank you card for inviting me to his home and even apologized for the messages he read, while making it clear he had no right to invade my privacy. I told him my annoyance at the situation had more to do with my own failure to gain clarity than his blatant disregard for the feelings of others.  That came as no surprise from someone so ridiculously self-centered.

.

"Everyone says that," he replied without apologizing.

He sat with me for more than an hour, during which I was my usual gracious and humble self. I allowed him to spew a convoluted philosophy on life while attempting to point out absurdities, but he wouldn’t hear it. He continued to chatter incessantly and guzzle Aunt Jane's Iced Sweet Tea.  He even ate a piece of the glazed lemon pound cake I'd baked yesterday afternoon -- the very first piece. At the end of his visit, he rose, we embraced and he departed. More than an hour later, I discovered the phone battery missing. I laughed, because I never believed I would see that phone again anyway. 

Though disappointed, like Anne Frank “despite everything, I believe that people are really good at heart” and pray Evil finds peace from what appears to be absolute misery.  I am grateful for every lesson, especially those that reveal potentially harmful intentions. Perhaps peace comes at a cost, but anything of value should.