The Cake Bully

In August of 1990, I got a new job working as a social worker for an agency that provided services to people with developmental disabilities. There came a day during my first week on the job that a ‘group birthday’ event occurred. Each month, anyone with a birthday in that month was given a birthday shout-out and the staff would have cake at the end of the staff meeting. As it turned out, my birthday was only a few days after being hired, so I was included in that month’s birthday celebration. I don’t know how they knew my birthday was in August, but they did.

I didn’t know about the cake.

The staff meeting was held in the central office area; it was quite a large space. Everyone sat along the perimeter of the room and there were a lot of people, I’m guessing about 40. At that time, I was in a super-duper fitness-crazed frenzy and I didn’t eat sugar or white flour. 

At the end of the meeting, the birthday cake was cut and pieces were handed out to each person by a staff member. Her name isn’t important, so there’s no reason to single her out now by name. (Sheila Camfry)

When she got around to handing me a piece of cake, I said, “No, thank you.” She then said, “It’s your birthday, have a piece of cake.” But I said, “No, I don’t eat cake but thanks anyway.” Not to be deterred, she then says, “Take the cake, it’s your birthday,” and she says this without a smile. She’s visibly annoyed with me and still has her arm stretched out in front of me with the cake on a paper plate. Apparently, this agency takes their cake very seriously, and now I’m in an awkward situation. Everyone in the room sees and hears the interaction and I feel their eyes on me, awaiting my next move.

(Oddly enough, this picture looks remarkably like cake-Sheila)

It’s my first week on the job. I’m getting a lot of unwanted attention. I’m feeling uncomfortable and I don’t know what else to do so I take the cake. I now have to decide what to DO with the cake. I don’t want to eat it, so I sit there with a piece of cake in hand for the duration of birthday situation. At some point, I mechanically walk over to the trash can and throw the cake away.

As the cake confrontation is occurring, I happen to look straight across the room and see a woman with dark hair and she’s watching the scene, a slight smile on her face. For some reason, I make a somewhat playful grimace. She starts to laugh. I felt like laughing too but the cake bully is still standing over me with the CAKE waiting for me to acquiesce.

After the meeting, and I am free of the cake, the smiling woman comes over and says something funny about the drama, and I knew right away that we were going to be friends. Her name was also Sheila, but she was a good Sheila, not a wicked Sheila. 

We did, in fact, become very good friends. During our first conversation she said, “I was waiting to see what was going to happen with that cake”! And she offers a couple of possibilities, one being the wicked Sheila throwing the cake into my lap. Another being me refusing the cake again and wondering what would then happen. Of course another refusal might have made bad-Sheila lose her cake attack, therefore be humiliated in front of everyone for failing at cake distribution.

Looking back, I now know that cake-Sheila was known for being a little odd. Apparently, if I’d refused the cake again, a lot of the people in the room would have been entertained watching her reactions and see her frustrations grow. It turns out that many of them were disappointed with the lack of fireworks as the cake situation was in play. 

Of course, I didn’t know any of this at the time. I knew that between me and strange-Sheila, one of us would be considered in line with the established group dynamic. But I only had a few days to become acquainted with the people there and I didn’t know about cake etiquette.

In hindsight, I think it would have been better to take the cake when offered. After all, I didn’t have to eat it. (Although cake-bully-Sheila might have had an accomplice sitting near me who would have noticed that I wasn’t eating it) 

But I think there was some part of me that wanted everyone to know that I didn’t eat empty calories. I may have thought that it gave me some bragging rights. But in the end, it just made my first impression on many of the staff an awkward one. I will try to be more gracious the next time I am offered something trivial that I really don’t want. That is, unless it’s cake.