I’ve never encountered a cake that I haven’t wanted to eat in its entirety. Scott, on the other hand, is not much of a sweets guy. He keeps asking me if we can have pie at our wedding, which I’m not necessarily opposed to, but cake is one of the things–along with table centerpieces and paper invitations–my mother insists we have so people will “feel like it’s a wedding” and not just a party Scott and I threw together. (Which, if left to our own devices, is precisely how it would look.) I delegated the cake-related tasks to Scott since I know he’s a little pickier about desserts than I am, and I figured it would be a relatively simple assignment that wouldn’t burden him with a lot of decision making. Boy was I wrong.
The venue we’re hosting our post-ceremony dinner at requires that any cake we bring in be prepared by a licensed vendor…for some sort of health code purposes, I guess. I’ve been looking at it as a nice way to support local small businesses, and we thought a quaint little downtown bakery would be the way to go for our low-key affair.
However, one problem Scott and I keep encountering is that we’re naturally just not very enthusiastic about wedding planning and some people have chosen to be upset with us because of it. Particularly people whose job it is to profit off of excitable brides. Scott, being the dutiful and helpful person he is, called the aforementioned local bakery (which shall remain nameless) this weekend to ask general questions about wedding cakes. It was meant to be a sort of cold-call just to gather information, but quickly turned into a fiasco. He called me shortly afterwards to relay the conversation to me, which was AWESOME. Here’s how it went down:
Scott: “Hi! I’m calling to see about ordering a cake from you guys for my wedding.”
Lady: “Okay. What kind of cake do you want?”
Lady: “[long pause]…What kind of chocolate?”
Scott: “Uh…I don’t know. We haven’t decided for sure.”
Lady: “[another long pause]…What color do you want the icing to be?”
Scott: “Sorry…I’m not sure about that either.”
Lady: “Well, what are your wedding colors?” (AGAIN WITH THE ‘COLORS’)
Scott: “Colors? Um, we don’t have any.”
Lady: “Well, how many people will be there?”
Scott: “Like, 75.”
Lady: “You’re inviting 75 people. You have to have a color scheme if you’re inviting that many people.”
Scott: “Well…we don’t.”
Lady: “Well, what color are the bridesmaids wearing?”
Lady: “[another long pause]”
Scott: “So…should we come by for a tasting, or…?”
Lady: “[sigh] This is why we don’t like the men calling about the cake. They never know what’s going on with the wedding. Have your fiancee call us.”
Scott: “Look, I’m telling you, this is a low-key wedding. We don’t have ‘colors.’ We’re not doing a wedding party or a reception or anything like that. We just want a cake.”
Scott finally got the woman to tentatively agree to make us a chocolate cake with white icing. Our tasting is scheduled for two weeks from now. And I am SO excited, not just because I get to eat cake, but because I will get to watch this woman’s head explode when she comes face-to-face with me, a female human, who has chosen not to expend any energy on things like “wedding colors.”
First question: How many people actually call a bakery knowing exactly what kind of wedding cake they want, down to the filling and the shape and everything? Isn’t that part of the process the baker is supposed to help with? It’s not like Scott’s clients come in to his office and he asks them, “So, whadda you think this case is worth? Do you wanna settle, or what?” I was surprised that she expected Scott to know exactly what kind of cake he wanted without having tried any of the cakes that bakery offers or at least listing the types of cakes they can make. Isn’t that the whole point of a tasting? (Any bakers out there, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong on this.)
Second question: Why do people care what we do for our wedding? I am continually shocked by the variety and strength of opinions people who are not close to Scott and I have about this one day of our lives. Why does it matter to this woman, who doesn’t know us and won’t be at our wedding, if we have bridesmaids or “colors” or whatnot? Why, when I’ve so often heard the “Your Day, Your Way” mantra repeated by every married couple, have people gotten all bent out of shape that we’re not doing things the way they want? Recently, my mom stopped by a florist to inquire about floral centerpieces for our dinner. When the florist asked what kind of bouquet I’d be holding and my mom broke the news to the shop owner that I didn’t want one, she lost her mind. She even offered to make me a bouquet for free just so I would have one. Once again, what does she care if I have a bouquet or not, especially if her business is not profiting off it?
To be fair, these women became bakers and florists precisely because they love what they do and are passionate about it. And they’ve probably come into contact with plenty of brides who do feel that cakes and flowers are very, very important contributors to their marital happiness. It is one thing to be passionate. It is another thing to be obnoxious and rude.
After Scott and I de-briefed and analyzed that phone conversation, which I am dubbing “CakeGate,” I came to this conclusion: our problem is that we didn’t call and ask for a cake, we asked for a WEDDING cake. If we hadn’t’ve dropped the W-word, the baker would’ve said, “Sure! I’d be happy to make a cake for ya. Come on by and pick it up tomorrow.” But since it’s a WEDDING cake and they’re WEDDING flowers, these women have donned their Bridezilla armor and pulled out their books filled with estrogen war tactics. I don’t think these poor vendors are used to dealing with apathetic couples like me and Scott.
Our cake tasting is going to be a hilarious disaster and I can hardly wait. Stay tuned for “Wedding Cake Fail, Part 2”!