On the second Friday of the State Fair, one of the museum’s board members brought a Tres Leches cake in for the volunteers as a thank you for all their hard work. The cake was from La Duni.
Unfortunately, the refrigerator was so packed with various volunteer snacks and lunches that the cake was unable to fit inside. So, the cake remained on the museum’s board room table all weekend.
And then for the whole week after that.
By the third – and last – week of the fair, the cake sitting on the table became a running joke among the staff and volunteers. People sitting too close to the box could detect the odor of spoiled milk, and mold had started to grow on one corner. And, yet, the cake did not get thrown away.
Can you tell where this is going?
Last Thursday, I used the restroom just off the boardroom. Once done, I exited and noticed one of the museum’s volunteers sitting at the table eating something with a spoon out of a paper bowl.
Me: “Hi, Ann! How are you?”
Ann: “Okay. This cake, though, is awful.”
And that is when I noticed that Ann was more than halfway through a giant slice of the La Duni Tres Leches.
Ann: “My children eat at La Duni all the time and are constantly raving about the food. This cake doesn’t taste very good to me. In fact, it was so bad that I had to pour a fruit cocktail over the top just to get it down!”
Here is my question: Should I have told Ann that the cake was rancid? Because she was almost finished with her slice, and the damage was already done. I know how to induce vomiting on a dog, but, A) Ann isn’t a dog; and B) I didn’t have any Hydrogen Peroxide handy.
Plus, I was speechless. Ann said the cake tasted bad, but continued to eat it anyway. Why would you do that?!
So, here I am. One week and one day later. Still wondering if I inadvertently killed one of the museum’s volunteers.