Tag Archives: Germans in Los Angeles

Cake Disaster Part Three

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CAKE DISASTER PART THREE

When I first decided to share my cake disaster, I didn’t intend to make a three part series out of it.  But when I started writing down this disastrous memory (I know I am a tad bit overly dramatic here), I realized that it would turn into a novel if I wouldn’t break it up.

Since my attention span doesn’t last too long and I personally get discouraged reading an article that is more than about half a page, I figured it would be best to split this story up (oh how I wish this really was just a fictional event and not a real-life experience.)  But anyways, let’s continue where I left of last time.

Luckily, my boss was very understanding of the situation and tried to calm my crying self down.  After all, I still had to go face the wedding planner and her entourage, trying to deliver a broken cake to them.  In that moment, I wish I was still a little kid whom it would be easily forgiven if it would have dropped a cake (maybe not a wedding cake, point taken, but who would give a wedding cake into a child’s hand anyways.)

I still had some driving time ahead of me before arriving at the venue, and I kept telling myself that somehow, the wedding staff would be empathetic and able to fix the cake.  Eventually, my tears had dried and I turned onto the windy road up to the Malibu Mountains.

The scenery was really beautiful: deserted windy roads, surrounded by meadows, the mountains, and wineries.  It took me a little to figure out the way to the venue, which made me arrive even later.  But that was the least problem I encountered that day.

Once I had securely parked my car I somehow managed to step out, still trying to convince myself that “everything would be fine.”  I carried the cake over to a table close by, where I then called the wedding planner.  She soon came walking over to me and spotted the disaster.  I explained the situation to her, hoping for the best.

It was no surprise that she wasn’t too thrilled about the situation.  She asked me in all seriousness if I could “just drive back, get the cake fixed, and bring it back.” I am sorry, lady, but it took me almost three hours to get there, and the cake would obviously not make it back in time.

So that option was crossed out quickly. I then suggested to her that maybe the florist would be able to do something about it.  The wedding planner was ok with that and directed me and the cake towards the main venue.

Unfortunately, it was very windy on this given day.  I had to walk really careful and slow, but I still felt the cake moving a tiny bit from the gust whirling around us.  I did manage to carry the cake over to the florist with no further incidents (thanks God.)

She inspected it and was not too happy about what she saw, but she wanted to give it a shot and sent me up to a small cottage with a kitchen where the cake was supposed to be stowed.

Again, I fought the gusty winds, balancing the cake on my hands.  Once I had reached the cottage and put the cake on a table, I let out a sigh of relief.  Relief that I didn’t drop it again, and relief that I was about to get out of this uncomfortable situation failry soon.

While waiting for the florist to make her way up, I looked around the room.  I saw wooden signs with the name of the bride and groom.  I felt horrible just imagining if it was my special day and I had to hear the news of a broken cake. I was quickly ripped away from that thought when the florist entered the room.

She kneeled in front of the cake, inspecting it while she bombarded me with questions and comments: “Why did you not bring cake tools?” “Aren’t you a baker?” “THIS is the cake they wanted? Looks so simple, you can barely see the colors,” and so on and so on.  I patiently and uncomfortably answered her everything, stating that I am just a coordinator and neither a delivery person or baker.  She eventually set me free by saying that she got this and that I could leave.

I wanted to scream my relief out, but instead I just walked quietly and fast down the meadow towards my car, jumped in it and drove off.  I called my boss and gave her the rundown of what just happened at the venue.  We both put it down as a learning experience and moved on from it.  I couldn’t wait to be back in Orange County, join my friends for my girlfriend’s birthday and get a drink in my hand.

The whole trip took me seven hours.  Seven hours!  That was a clear turning point for me.  From that moment on I did not fulfill any more deliveries.  And, to be honest, I think my boss liked it that way, too.

Images: pixabay.com
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Anne-KathrinAnne-Kathrin Schulte, is a contributor for CaliforniaGermans.com. She writes on her personal experience of the American Dream as well as on working as an au pair in CA. She was born and grew up in Düsseldorf, Germany, where she completed her degree as a state-approved Kindergarten teacher. After her au pair engagement in the US and a quick return to Germany she decided to attend university in California and moved back to the United States. She has been living in Southern California since 2011.

If you would like to contact Anne-Kathrin, please send an email to californiagermans(at)gmail.com and place her name in the subject line.

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You May Have Your Cake, But You Can’t Always Eat It

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YOU MAY HAVE YOUR CAKE, BUT YOU CAN’T ALWAYS EAT IT

Dear Readers,

I know it’s been a while.  Unfortunately, it’s been way too long, and I do feel bad.  I missed writing and taking the time to be creative.  But, as all of us know, life happens.  My life has been extremely busy these past couple months.  I am not complaining as I love being busy, I just deeply regret that I didn’t have time to sit down, be inspired, and write.

The thing is I probably could have produced somewhat of an article each week- but it would have felt more as a chore than something that I truly enjoy. Busting out an article because you have to instead of because you want to produces (obviously) different results.  But I am finally able to slowly get back into the swing of things.

As I have mentioned in one of my last pieces, I started working with dogs, and I love it!  Being with animals is such a stress reliever, and I met so many wonderful people through it as well.  But besides this opportunity, I also started working as a coordinator for a baker.  One of my friends was doing the job before, but since she started a full time job she was unable to continue the work and recommended me.

The position sounded really great as I was able to work remotely, so it perfectly fit in with my schedule.   But, as this happens a lot in life as well, things came different at some point than discussed.  In theory, my duties consisted of handling e-mail customer inquiries, a fun and easy task.  Of course, it took me a little in the beginning until I got the hang of it, but I eventually was able to spend less than one hour a day working from my computer.

Things started to change about a couple weeks into my job.  I knew that my friend handled some of the pastry and cake deliveries in the past as she was living less than five minutes away from the bakery.  I, on the other hand, live about an hour away from Redondo Beach, where the shop is located.  So I became a little skeptical when my boss started asking me to do deliveries as well.

I might not have minded it that much if it wouldn’t have been on a weekend, but to ask me to come out two days in a row to deliver cakes just didn’t sound too appealing to me, especially since one of the locations included Compton, which I thankfully turned down.  As a compromise though and since I didn’t want to seem entitled, I agreed to accomplish the delivery of an ice cake to Marina Del Rey.

The whole way from Redondo Beach to its final destination I felt like I was on my way to Siberia.  Since it was an ice cake, I had to put the air conditioning in my car on full blast. Even though I ended up with a cold I am happy to report that the cake made it to the party without any harm.

From that day on, my boss figured she could sign me up for more deliveries.  Without even asking me, she concluded that I was in charge of spending one precious Saturday in April driving up to the Malibu Canyons to deliver a wedding cake.  If that didn’t already sound bad enough, let me tell you that the notorious cake was only supposed to be used for photography purposes and not to be eaten.  Anyways, since my boss was supposed to go out of town that weekend, she told me that I have to do this delivery.

I wasn’t very happy, to say the least, especially since it was my friend’s birthday and I would be missing half of the celebrations.  But what was I supposed to do when my boss tells me to do it, even though deliveries were not part of my job description in the first place?  I know, I know, I sound like a whiner and unappreciative.  Well, you might feel me a little more after I tell you the whole tale of that one fateful day.

It was a warm and sunny Saturday morning.  I had come to terms with the fact that I was about to drive the 160 miles round trip to deliver a simple twelve piece cake into the middle of nowhere while my boss was basking in the Palm Springs sun.

To my surprise though, she was still working on the masterpiece when I arrived at the bakery in Redondo Beach.  She told me that she had to cancel her girls’ trip since she still had a couple orders to finish.  I instantly felt bad and selfish, and I swore to myself to bury any feelings of irritation about my interrupted weekend plans.

We ended up sharing some bonding conversation while she was finishing up the wedding cake.  Looking at the clock, I got a little nervous considering that the cake was supposed to arrive in Malibu at 11 a.m. and it was already past nine.  Luckily though, she was almost done.

Since I am a pretty clumsy person, I didn’t decline her offer to securely transport the cake to my car.  She put it in a carton box and carried it over to my passenger seat, where she positioned it in a way to make it easy for me to pick it up and switch it onto the cake board once I arrived at the destination.

We then exchanged our goodbyes, not knowing what unanticipated turn the whole day would take.  But more to that story next time.

Image: pixabay.com
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Anne-KathrinAnne-Kathrin Schulte, is a contributor for CaliforniaGermans.com. She writes on her personal experience of the American Dream as well as on working as an au pair in CA. She was born and grew up in Düsseldorf, Germany, where she completed her degree as a state-approved Kindergarten teacher. After her au pair engagement in the US and a quick return to Germany she decided to attend university in California and moved back to the United States. She has been living in Southern California since 2011.

If you would like to contact Anne-Kathrin, please send an email to californiagermans(at)gmail.com and place her name in the subject line.


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