This is when I say something: “Blabla.”
This is when I think something: [Blubub]
And there you go:
This year for my birthday I got, hold your feet, a BAKLAVA ICE CREAM CAKE! Even if I where buying things I wouldn’t know how to get holf of something like that. Days later there was still a huge chunk in the freezer. I was hoarding it. And one of these days I felt like getting myself a sugar rush. Cut of a piece of cake and devoured it. Even though that chunk was an insane calorie-density-brick, one piece wasn’t enough. I craved more. I planned to get another piece out of the freezer…but… there was Fiona making herself a coffee. Also, some other flatmates bristling all over the flat.
[Shit. When I get out the cake now, I have to share. Maybe I wait until Fiona is gone. Maybe I can eat cake secretly… Darn! I can’t wait. How horrible to hide something so delicious anyway. Come on, share! New awesome stuff is gonna come your way.]
“Hey Fiona, would you like som baklava ice cream cake?”
“No, thank you.”
[What??? How is this possible? The woman is insane! Lucky me though.]
“Oh, really? Good. Then I can blubber it all out. I wanted some cake and thought: ‘Shit, when I get it out now, I have to share it with everyone.’ Isn’t that horrible?”
“Hm, you asked me, so you’ve done your part. Now you can eat the cake all by yourself.” *Smiles*
“Shouldn’t I ask the others?”
“No, I don’t think you have to if you don’t want to.”
– Sometimes I need others to tell me that something is allright to hear that it sounds kinda wrong. Just “kinda”, but still. –
“I’m gonna ask the others.”
[Maybe I get lucky and the others don’t want any either.]
“Lisa, would you like some baklava ice cream cake?”
Lisa: “Oh yes, I’d love to!”
“Markus, would you like some baklava ice cream cake?”
Markus: “Oh, yes, please!”
[Damn it again]
Now that I recollect this, I see a 100 percent correlation between those who have tried the cake before and wanting it seriously badly and those who don’t know what they declined, aka Fiona. Maybe I should have force fed her some of it.
Anyway, back in the kitchen I cut three pieces. Only two were left. For another day. When noone’s home?
I wonder: How can we learn to share when everything that we have to share can be replaced with a short stop at the supermarket?
Update: The last piece came to be a birthday cake once more, with three candles, for Markus’ birthday. A little bit of hoarding seems to come in handy after all.