‘Tis the season for gluttony and blind trust.

It’s that special time of year when our customers share the holiday spirit by bringing in homemade baked goods, boxed chocolates, and regifted fruitcakes for our employees to shamelessly stuff ourselves with (or regift in turn, in the event of fruitcake).

In fact I’m so used to our little coffee corner in the lobby being fully stocked with courtesy sweets in the weeks before Christmas that I find myself actively disappointed on the days when I wander over for a dose of caffeine and diabetes and there are no free goodies on the counter.

How dare you people, I think in silent hangry rage. You ungrateful scum, after all the money you’ve exchanged with us for services we provided, how DARE you come in here now without offerings of high fructose corn syrup!

Thankfully those lapses in generosity are a rare exception to the rule; more often than not the counter is laden with sugar and more sugar in all its myriad forms, of which I would normally readily partake without pausing once to consider anything other than YUMMY FOOD GOES IN MOUTH PORTAL.

Until today, when I had a thought.

(Yes, it happens occasionally.)

Remember how when you were a kid, there was always that handful of neighbors who passed out homemade caramel popcorn balls or candy apples for Hallowe’en, and your mom made you throw them straight into the garbage when you got home in case they were full of arsenic and razor blades?

Why was this suddenly not a concern around Christmastime? We used to find ourselves inundated with sugary foods from all kinds of random sources around the holidays, and never once did my mother advise caution. That weird hermit-type down the street unexpectedly emerged from his burrow in December and made the rounds with Christmas cookies? Sure, GO NUTS, KID!

Were my parents maybe hoping to get out of buying me presents, or are we really just that guileless and trusting once Noël is nigh?

I guess it’s because at Hallowe’en the idea of someone slipping a trick into your treat just seems to come with the territory, whereas at the Most Wonderful Time of the Year everyone’s supposed to be feeling joyous and charitable, and besides, people are too busy using their razor blades to open packages from Amazon to slip them into anybody’s plum pudding.

Still, you never know.

I was halfway through a slice of banana bundt cake this morning when a small corner of my brain piped up and remarked, You know, this could be poisoned. You could be ingesting cyanide as we speak.

Isn’t that a bit far-fetched? my inner skeptic ventured. I gave the cake a sniff. I thought cyanide was supposed to smell like bitter almonds. This just smells like banana. 

And you’re certain you belong to the 40% of the population that can actually detect the smell of cyanide, are you? countered Alarmist Nutty. Besides, cyanide was just an example. There could be anything in ther-  DID YOU JUST TAKE ANOTHER FUCKING BITE OF THAT WHILE I WAS TALKING?

…umh, mmhpmphlh…

What was that?

Sorry, had my mouth full.


Look, I hate to burst your bubble, but we’ve already eaten half this thing, so I’m pretty sure we’re already screwed if there IS anything deadly in there. So if we are about to drop dead, let’s just enjoy the time we have left and eat some cake, shall we? In for a penny, and all that…

You’re dead to me.

Quite possibly!

Do you have to be so goddamn cheerful about it?

‘Tis the season.

I had a vision of my own death. It was delicious.

7 thoughts on “‘Tis the season for gluttony and blind trust.

  1. I have similar thoughts actually, although not quite as extreme. Whenever someone brings cake in to work, everyone eats it, and I just think “Wouldn’t it be bad if we all got food poisoning, and everyone called in sick tomorrow?” …And then I get myself a slice because I don’t want to be that one person who’s not sick and has to cover for everyone else

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Why did this never occur to me? Probably because I was the kid who ate those popcorn balls on the way home. I never thought about Halloween candy being poisoned and if there was a razor blade in there I figured I’d bite into it before it did any damage.
    Actually the Victorian tradition of putting coins in Christmas pudding bothered me more. Not that I ever had Christmas pudding but I still thought that if, at the end of the meal, no one had found the 50-pence piece or whatever everybody’d be checking their stool for the next week. And one year at Mardi Gras a co-worker brought in a New Orleans King Cake which one woman discovered has a tiny little baby baked into it. The thing is just big enough to be swallowed but luckily she spit it out. She was afraid it meant she was going to have a baby. It turns out it just means she was responsible for buying next year’s King Cake. As if the weight gained from eating the cake isn’t enough one unlucky person gets saddled with a job.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I know I’m terribly late to the party, but I am just now having some time to catch up on my blog reading. The only thing I ever worry about stuffing in my mouth is King Cake. It’s a big thing in New Orleans around Mardi Gras – and somewhere in that cake is a little plastic baby Jesus – just waiting to choke the life right out of you!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Back when I was in elementary school one of the teachers brought a king cake to share with the class for Epiphany. It had a dime hidden in it instead of the baby Jesus, though, so we didn’t get the chance to choke on the Son of God, just the potential to break a tooth on Queen Elizabeth II’s face.


  4. Pingback: 16 things that still suck in 2016 | Spoken Like A True Nut

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