Raisin Dig

Sometimes my dig in-edness can get in the way.

Today, I was looking forward to walking down to my local swanky newly established hang-your-bike-on-the-wall-no-hipster-approval-needed-but-yes-we-are-truly-hipster-coffee shop.

Displayed on a beautiful glass cake pedestal, lusciously sliced pumpkin bread with chocolate chips…and I believed raisins. I had ordered the same temptress slice a month before on my maiden voyage to the shop, where I had been sordidly let down to bite down on a gooshy gummy raisin amidst my moistly slightly spiced sweet bread. I grumbled, yet ate around the raisins and enjoyed the chocolaty pumpkin while chatting and sipping my coffee.

Poised to be validated while embracing the full disappointment for not getting to indulge in a treat with my coffee, I ask the barista if there are raisins in the pumpkin bread.

Nope. They are all chocolate chips.

I begin the dig.

No, I am pretty sure that those are raisins in there. That one looks like a raisin. If you give me a fork, I could pull it out and show you.

I look up to see the barista looking a little taken a back, casting a quick sideways glance at her co-worker. He is standing next to me on the same side of the counter, cleaning up. He peers into the cake glass, makes a conciliatory nod at me and pipes in.

Yes, there are no raisins in the pumpkin bread. Those are all chocolate chips.

I dig in.

Hmm…You’re sure? No? Well, I am going to wait to order until my friend arrives.

My friend arrives and we return to the counter and the pumpkin bread.

I dig on.

Well, I was here before and there were raisins. I just can’t stand raisins. Did you ever see that movie? Benny & Joon? That said it all for me. The scene were she says how raisins used to be plump sweet shinny grapes, and now…well it’s like their dignity was just sucked out of them, and I totally agree. Do you know that scene? Yeah? No? Well, I just think raisins are sad and…..

Dig this. The friend that I was meeting, I notice that she too, is nodding conciliatory- yet I can’t stop digging.

I’m a baker, so I can tell they are raisins.

Even with the music piping through the café, it gets silent for a second. I realize the particular friend I am with, grew up in a bakery- her parents are bakers, hence a more authentic claim to the baker-ship, should be made by her. Er, uh…could be made, had she ever found herself in a situation where the baker card needed to be played, like I had just. Found. Myself in… I take the hint, and do my best to casually move from awkward dried grape talk to coffee talk. I get friendly reminiscing with a different barista and we get my half caff pour over specially made coffee pour moi and head towards the sidewalk tables to enjoy the sun.

As I pause to pick up my keys from the window seat where I had been waiting, I notice that the man sitting nearby had succumbed to scrumptious, and had ordered the pumpkin cake with chocolate and raisins.

Are there raisins in there? They said there wasn’t, but I had ordered it before and there were, so I didn’t get it. I don’t like raisins. They’re gross.

The customer chuckles and affirms that indeed, there are no raisins.

I’ve had four bites, and no raisins. Just chocolate.

I am thinking, yeah- just you wait. And I continue to hollowly dig out the truth while my friend continues to walk outside.

Well, they said that last time, and low and behold...there were raisins. Carry on! Good luck.

I start to walk away and stop this ridiculous inquiry when I assert my right to dig in deep.

Could you maybe tap on the window and give me a thumbs up if when you finish it there are no raisins? You know, just to be safe?

As if raisins now poise a danger? Could I be dangerously wrong???? HA! Laughable. I walked out to join my waiting friend, confident I had not just dug a tunnel to China. Surely he would never tap on the window, and shatter my illusions of a shallow dig.

And he never did tap on the window.

Dig –dig- diggidy do!!

Instead, he kindly walked outside to politely and happily inform me that I could go ahead and order a slice because there was not one raisin in the entire slice! Wasn’t that great!?

I smiled. Nodded and thanked him and dug on.

Amateur, I thought…not in your slice.