Why I Will Never Truly 'Fit In' In New York City

So, it is someone's birthday today, at the office I am temping at for almost two months. So they ordered a cake from a NYC bakery (which generally means delicious). A German chocolate cake. Now, I have recently discovered that I am a big fan of German Chocolate Cake (Chocolate. Almost Too-Sweet Icing. Coconut. Nuts. What's not to love?), but I understand it's not everyone's cup of tea. It's not the generic, plain-jane kind of cake you order if you want to please absolutely everyone. So, you would expect a couple of people to turn it down, based on that fact alone.

I am the only woman in the office eating this free cake. The only one.

I have a checklist for occasions like this.

The Free Cake Checklist:
Is it free? Yes.
Is it cake? Yes.

I'm sold.

(Technically, I often follow up with:
Does it have onions in it? Of course not, it's cake.
Is it carrot cake? No.)

But these women- these rail-thin, glamorously dressed women- don't even look twice at the exciting, individually-plated delciousness that is free cake. I'm beginning to think they aren't human. I saw the knife one girl used to cut the cake lying in the sink afterwards...entirely covered with icing and cake. How can you not swipe a finger across that knife and indulge in just a taste of icing? That's not normal.

I allow for the fact that one or two might not like German chocolate cake. But all of them? No way.

Anyway, another fun fact about my office: I have worn variations of the same clothes the entire time I've worked here (13 days now). The same pair of black pumps. The same black skirt for, I think, 10/13 days. Either my black cardigan or my black blazer every day.

I'm a temp. I only have so many outfits.

Now back to my fabulous FREE CAKE.

That's right. It's free. And it's cake.