Lemmonex and I made plans to check out the new cupcake joint in Dupont, so I could get my sugar on and she could post a review. And maybe afterwards we'd drink International Coffee while musing about that cute waiter, Jean-Luc. Or just have a pillow fight and giggle. What? We're all feminine and crap.
Or maybe we could have gone for cupcakes, followed by fancy burgers, Belgian food, upscale pizza, then small plates. It would have been like the last five years of the DC dining scene, Memento-style. But even that happy scenario was not to be.
I arrived at 6:30 to see a line spilling out of the store and down Connecticut Avenue. I joined the horde and waited for Lemmonex. The line inched forward. I was ever closer to trendy sweets and the anticipation was killing me.
At 6:45, Lemmonex arrived. Not two seconds later, they sold their last cupcake. The woman right in front of me snagged the very last one. Denied! Then the staff kicked everyone out of the store.
First off, let’s all stand in awe of the gross incompetence of Hello, Cupcake. Their first week in business, and they sold out of cupcakes fifteen minutes before closing. Get it together, people!
Second, let’s reflect upon the absurdity of it all. How do you run out of the very product you named your store after?
“Welcome to Staples, we’re fresh out of staples today.”
“Hi! Thanks for shopping at Toys R Us, unfortunately, we have no toys.”
“Due to rising gas prices, CarMax has decided to exclusively sell scooters and riding lawnmowers.”
It’s just too weird. At least the evening wasn’t a total loss: we consoled ourselves with pizza and beer. Just like the classy, upscale ladies we truly are. Then I broke a beer bottle and waved it at some guy's face, while Lemmonex hit another dude over the head with a chair. Really, that totally happened. It was awesome.