Is everyone aware of Mindy Kaling’s book Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns)?  I was not, until I decided to check facebook before going to bed early (most stupid thing anyone can ever do) tonight.  Now, I am up late and can’t get up at 7am anymore.  But I am also in love.  A little like I was with Bridget Jones / Helen Fielding not too long ago, but this time, it’s an incredibly delightful (and completely different) American sensibility.  This is a short bit called “the day I stopped eating cupcakes”:

Very recently I was out on script for The Office for a week.  ‘Out on script’ refers to when writers are sent off on their own to write a first draft of an episode of the show.

It is an amazing time, basically paid and sanctioned hooky. This means that instead of showering, dressing, and coming into work every day, I’m allowed to laze around my house in a giant T-shirt and no pants, go shopping, and go to trendy cardio classes with my fun, unemployed friends.  Obviously this is the best time ever.

This time when I was on script, I stopped by my favorite cupcake place, which I will call Sunshine Cupcakes.  (‘Sunshine Cupcakes’—while a ridiculous name—is actually a restrained parody of cupcake bakery names.  You have no idea.  In Los Angeles, cupcake bakeries are as pervasive as Starbucks.  They are the product of a city with an abundance of trophy wives, because trophy wives are the financial engines of cutesy commerce that makes Los Angeles like no other American city: toe jewelry, doorknob cozies, vegan dog food, you get it.  If I am sounding mean, I should tell you how jealous and admiring I am of these trophy wives.  I’d marry a partner at William Morris Endeavor and start a cat pedicure parlor m’self if I were so lucky.)

So yeah, on my fourth consecutive visit to Sunshine Cupcakes, I was paying for my cupcake when the female manager (cupcake apron, Far Side glasses, streak of pink hair, the universal whimsical bakery lady uniform, as far as I can tell) approached me.

Far Side:  You’ve come here a lot this week.

Me (mouth full of a generous sample):  Yeah, I love this place, man.

Far Side:  We know you’re on Twitter.  (Leaning in conspiratorially)   And, if you’re willing to tweet about loving Sunshine Cupcakes, this cupcake (gesturing to the one I was buying) is free.

I did not know it was possible to be triple offended.  First of all, Manager Woman, if you notice that a thirty-one-year-old woman is coming to your cupcake bakery every day for a week, keep that information to yourself.   I don’t need to be reminded of how poor my food choices are on a regular basis. Secondly, how cheap and/or poor do you think I am?   A cupcake costs two bucks!  You think I’m miserly enough to think, like, ‘Oh goody, I can save those two bucks for some other tiny purchase later today’?   And thirdly, even if I were to buy in to this weird bribey situation where I endorse your product, you think the cost of it would be one measly cupcake? The implications of this offer were far worse than anything she meant to propose, obviously, but I hate her forever nonetheless.

This is why I never eat cupcakes anymore.  The connotations are too disturbing to me.

Mindy Kaling, from Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns)