A Cupcake Named Desire

This mini story is a joke. I got the idea from a conversation I had on Facebook and it grew into a little story.

The café was crowded as she tried to find a table. Finally, she spied one by the window. As she approached the empty table, she tripped and sprawled out on the gleaming, hardwood floor of the café.

“Oh, I’m such a klutz,” she muttered to herself, quickly jumping up. Her coffee was now a river of brown covering the floor. Her caramel pretzel cupcake smashed into a chocolate mess.

“No, it’s my fault,” a deep male voice said. She looked up to a most dashingly handsome man. His dark, well-trimmed hair, shined under the track lighting. His wide smile revealed an array of white, gleaming teeth.

A café employee quickly worked on cleaning up the mess she’d created. Clumsiness was nothing new for her. Some people said clumsy was her middle name.

But she was more concerned about this handsome stranger’s name. Without a word, he led her to the empty table. And amidst the crowded café, she felt as if they were alone. In a time capsule of sorts. But one thing was missing. Her coffee.

The man snapped his fingers. Another employee appeared with a replacement cupcake and a tall, steaming cup of joe.

“How did you do that?” She asked in wonderment.

His espresso colored eyes studied her. “This is my café. Well, one of them. You should try the one on Mocha Street. I have a large selection of baked goods at that location.”

She eyed him warily. “I’m not the type of girl who samples strange men’s baked goods simply because they suggest it. That’s not who I am.”

He leaned in. “And who are you, exactly?”

She brushed back her mane of thick, blonde hair, revealing more of her porcelain-like skin. Her hazel eyes flashed with confidence. “My name is Desire Cupcake.”

The man reached out and shook her hand. “Hello, Desire. I’m Swiss Cappuccino.”