Mr. Boat Blunder

 So I didn’t meet this guy on a dating app. He was older… like on the brinks of a silver fox. We were trying (meaning me and my best friend) to be part of a boat club and he was the group leader. We met the first time over drinks with lots of laughter or whatever and the second time was just to “hang out.” He paid for everything and was kind of funny, so I was along for the ride. Then he got wine to come back to my house… A little fishy but, I have this guilt thing that guys often take advantage of. He came over got so lit that there’s no way on God’s green earth this boy could drive; he couldn’t even maneuver a grocery cart at this point. So, to my dismay we allowed him to stay. We have a quite comfortable couch in the middle of our living room so he just lounged there.

      I got ready for bed in my room, because it was like a Tuesday, and proceeded to the laundry room to dispose of my clothes in the dark. That’s when he stood up and posed as a blockade in front of my door. He reached out for me as I failed in my attempt to side-step him. “What are you doing,” I bellowed. “Shh,” he responded while trying to get a grip on my hips. I know this fool did not just shush me! I shoved with all my might and yelped, “No!” I slipped past him and slammed my door. I never locked a door so quickly in my life. I know, I know… I shouldn’t get myself into these situations but I couldn’t release him onto the road under his conditions. He left the next morning and here’s a cake to capture this experience.

Get the Hell Out of My House Cake
 1 C sugar                                      1 ½ C flour                                 2 t vanilla
 1 stick butter                           1 ¾ t baking powder                   2 eggs                                               ½ C milk

Oven to 350 degrees while greasing and flouring a 9×9 inch pan. Multitasking is key here because efficiency is essential. In a medium bowl, clean bowl, blue bowl— just whatever is in most tangible, cream together the sugar and butter. Beat in the eggs, crack one in each hand if you can; I mean, if you get shell in the batter, that will make it less likely he will return for seconds. Then stir in the vanilla. Add flour and baking powder. No need to sift them because if you would have sifted through evening options for male attention, you’d be making truffles or anything else that takes precision and quality ingredients. Holy cow! Add the milk before he comes over to “help” which is just an excuse to get close enough to touch you. Pour batter into the prepared pan and bake for 30. This recipe is brought to you by Allrecipes with a Stephanie touch, naturally. This cake is best served ANYWHERE BUT HERE. 

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