By: Lizzie McNeely
When I heard about Labspace Studio’s fundraiser for The Humane Society, titled Cupcake Camp, visions of icing laden spoons and maraschino cherries danced through my head. An afternoon of cupcake tasting? Yes, please! What I did not anticipate was that the greatest benefit of attending was that I could finally come to terms with the fact that if atomic warfare, the apocalypse or a really long blackout occurred I would most definitely die. In all likelihood, mere minutes after the last ice cream tub had melted.

In other words, had Mrs. Darwin invited 150 people over for a tea party and then served them only 75 cupcakes it would have saved Charles a trip to the Galapagos. The full meaning of survival of the fittest would be abundantly clear.

I am not fit. Nor is my boyfriend. Nor is my best friend. We are a posse of dandified urbanites doomed to tragedy by cripplingly impeccable manners.

I should have known things weren’t right as I approached Lapspace: “You’ll never get a cupcake” sneered a mom pushing her stroller out the door. Why did I not listen to the breeder? Clearly she’s already well ahead of me in the DNA survival stakes. No, no, in I went and naively asked, “Pardon me, but where are the cupcakes at this cupcake tasting?”

“See that crowd standing around the table. They’re waiting for the cupcakes.”

What, no lineup? Had the barbarians invaded? Though cleverly disguised as nondescript families and laid back Leslieville denizens, it was a veritable salivating mob. And at quarter past 3, when a platter of cupcakes descended from the kitchen towards the crowd, that mob exploded. The moment the platter was placed on the table – snatch, snatch, snatch –all evidence of cupcakes was gone.

A second batch came out. Snatch, snatch, snatch. Children with sticky icing lips no longer looked so sweet and innocent. I was onto them and their nimble fingers.

A third batch came out: “Please let vegans have a chance. These are vegan cupcakes. Let vegans go first.” How many vegans could their possibly be? And why would a vegan spend an afternoon at a cupcake tasting? Go eat a bag of carrots. I demand carnivore rights! However, even when the flavour of cupcake sounded as gag worthy as vegan the snatch, snatch, snatching was way too fast for me. Sheesh.

We needed to strategize. To cover territory, my companions and I split around the room. A tray of jalapeno jelly cupcakes and mocha cupcakes approached. I finally let my hang-ups about competing with small children slide and stretched my go-go-gadget arms over their heads. Suckers. That’s what you get for being short!

When we reconvened it turned out my friend had got a cupcake too. Fantastic! Boyfriend came up with zilch. I’ll have to reconsider this relationship. We had two cupcakes to share between the three of us. We gathered in a tight circle, nibbled little bits and passed it on. Sure jalapeno may not have been our first pick, but what’s a passive aggressive trio to do?

We nearly scored a third when a guy overheard my cutie pie friend whine that she was unable to find a pink lady, the holy grail of cupcakes. “Have you not had one? Do you want mine?” He swung about and thrust a cupcake at her. Nice play sir. Take note men, nothing says you would be the alpha male of a hunting gathering tribe like grabbing a cupcake for your crush. Crazily my friend declined the offer and admitted she’d already eaten.

“I can’t believe you didn’t work that,” my boyfriend said in shock, “that would be like if you were hunting and a magical deer came over and demanded that you shoot him, but you didn’t.”

True, it was just like that. I guess some people just weren’t meant to survive. On the upside, thanks to our donations likely a few stray cats