The Church Elder and the "Better Than Sex Cake"
04/25/2024
Back in the '90s I joined a new church and immediately began hearing these little rumors scurrying around in any conversation where food was mentioned of a cake that was absolutely heavenly. In fact, whenever cake came up, the name of that cake had to come up, with much blushing, arching of eyebrows, and giggles behind hands. I was eventually told the story that one of the ladies in the church would bring to church suppers every few years a triple chocolate cake that was so moist and delicious that the ladies claimed it was Better Than Sex. Thus, the name of the cake came to be the "Better Than Sex Cake." I was eventually elected an elder in the church, and with my position came expectations of a certain, ahem... decorum. Nevertheless, the day finally came when the lady who made the cake, did, in fact, bring her notorious cake to a church luncheon... and in a right of initation, I was asked to sample it.
Now, this wasn't to be a quiet, discreet sampling. A gaggle of the ladies swoped in and ambushed my wife and myself at a table. They brought us slices of the cake and insisted that I try it out immediately, in front of them. The ladies all crowded in around us and watched, expectantly, as I forked in my first bite. Now this was, indeed, a very, very good cake. It was extremely moist, with sinfully delicious layers, rich icing, and chocolate chips. I have no idea how on earth the lady managed to make the cake hold together and yet be so moist.
As I sampled and enjoyed, the ladies of the church stared at me expectantly, with glistening eyes and little titters escaping from behind their raised hands. Finally one asked the inevitable question: "So, isn't that better?" Knowing exactly what they were asking, I stalled. "Better? Better than what?" I asked, feigning ignorance while the wheels of my mind spun furiously and frantically, trying to figure out how to answer the question with my lovely wife sitting right there beside me. I was on the classic horns of a delimma. It was the ultimate "Kobayashi Maru" scenario. One lady blurted out, "Isn't that cake better than SEX?" That did it. I was trapped.
I gave up, wiped my mouth, faced the music, and threw decorum to the wind. "Well, now, ladies. This certainly is a wonderful, amazing cake. I'm not sure I've ever tasted better." I dabbed my mouth with a napkin again, pausing to add to the suspense of the moment. The lady who baked the cake beamed and they all nodded, staring at me intensely, waiting with bated breath for my next words. Then I, the proper church elder, inclined my head deferentially towards my wife and said:
"But clearly, you ladies have never had really good sex."
My wife blushed deep crimson, the ladies tittered uproariously behind their hands, and a new raft of juicy new rumors were launched, right there on the spot.
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