The Trash Cake Story

During the third trimester of my freshman year of college, I took a rock climbing course hosted by the local climbing gym and I absolutely loved it. Rock climbing is probably the only sport I have any real drive in and feel truly proud of myself for making achievements in. Unfortunately, it is not a sport at the gym you can always do on your own. Bouldering is when you climb around with only a basic harness and a carabiner, mainly using shorter walls or the room with the most padding on the floor. The main climbing is done with the harness hooked up to a rope with the carabiner, and with a partner supporting your weight on the other end of the rope. The system is put together so that the leverage allows you to hold another person without much effort so long as you personally weigh equal or more than them. I prefer this type of full harness and rope climbing, and while there are mechanical versions of the ropes to hold you on a few walls, you have to have a partner there with you. During my freshman year my partner was an acquaintance who I got along with very well.

Perhaps halfway through the spring trimester, we walked from the college campus to the downtown climbing gym with our folded umbrellas wondering if it was going to rain. The morning had been a bit rainy, but it was starting to look sunny and it was getting very hot already. Summer was coming on quickly. We were relieved to reach the gym's cool interior, change into our rubber climbing shoes and harnesses, and get to climbing. The front of the gym looked something like an athletic shop front with a glass back wall. Through that, you could see the gym beyond. The floor went down to basement level, and the climbing walls rose up from the padded floor all the way to another storey above our heads. A walkway went around the edge, allowing you to look out over the gym on your way to the locker rooms. Beyond the locker room entrances was a training area with a view of the main climbing area and tall, cave-like bouldering room with artificial stalactites. There were two staircases leading down into the climbing areas. One was near the front, and the other was in the training area in the back. This second staircase took you down into the relaxation and party room next to the climbing areas. It had picnic style tables and murals of mountains and meadows on the walls. My partner and I would sit here when we took breaks or needed the drinking fountain.

One day, we arrived to discover that a family was having a birthday part event at the climbing gym. A bunch of kids were being chaperoned by the parents of the birthday boy, and were alternating climbing and hanging out in the party room eating food and snacks. My partner and I mostly ignored them, but it was difficult. The kids were absolutely fine and were trying to have a jolly holiday. The parents, however, were not. From what I remember, the father did not seem all that involved or vocal. The mother, on the other hand, seemed to take this whole party as a personal attack on her, as though the fact that she had to deal with it was offensive and the children's fault. Every now and then we heard her barking at the children, telling them not to wander off. We did not listen too hard because we felt that staring at her would just make the children and father uncomfortable.

At one point my partner and I took a break to go use the restroom, and had to walk through the party area while the cake was coming out. It was an absolutely massive chocolate cake that I now know came from Costco, since I recently went to Costco for the first time and spotted these cakes there. They are at least ten inches across and half a foot high. My partner and I looked on with envy, and felt very sorry for the kids. The mother had served the cake, or perhaps had the father serve it, and keeping the children from getting dirty or eating too much. Only a small part of the cake had been cut into. I think she thought the chocolate cake would give them a sugar high and make them even harder to manage in this crazy place. My partner and I agreed that she should not have agreed to or suggested a trip to the rock climbing gym with a giant cake if she thought the children would be nightmares. And really, they were a perfectly normal bunch of kids that I do not recall getting into any trouble. They were engaged in the party, not looking to cause mischief. Why was this woman in such a bad mood over something like a birthday party?

Not too long after that, they must have left. My partner and I did not seem them leave, as we were paying attention to not falling off one wall or another. They were just gone the next time we went through the party room to the stairs. Thinking back on that party and that big cake that was my favorite flavor, I glanced into the trash can on our way and stopped dead in my tracks. Sitting on top of the rest of the trash, most of which was paper and chip bags, was that enormous chocolate cake. Only about a fourth of the cake had been eaten, then the plastic cover had been snapped back into place and the whole thing had been gingerly set into the trash can. I squeaked my partner's name and we looked down at the cake sadly. "Do you think the dad felt bad and put it in there nicely like that?" I asked. My partner shrugged; it was such a shame. "I wish we could have had some," I said with a sigh. "it still looks perfect."

And a switch clicked in my brain. "I have a thought," I said.

"What's that?" my partner asked.

"Should we take it? Do you think we could get back to school? Do you think the people at the desk would say anything?"

My partner was surprised that I had suggested we take the trash cake, but seemed intrigued. After hesitating for only a bit, I reached in and picked up the cake. Nothing had been spilled on it. Nothing seemed wrong with it. Like children sneaking around after dark, we took the cake with us upstairs and to the locker rooms. We changed into our normal shoes, took off our harnesses, and took our equipment back to the desk as nonchalantly was we could. No one said anything about the cake. Exhilarated, we began the twenty minute walk home. The sun was beating down on our heads, so we took turns holding the cake and walking with the umbrella shading it. We reached the dormitories and immediately brought it to show our friends.

"We found a whole cake in the trash!" we announced.

For the next few days, various people indulged in the chocolate goodness of the cake until everyone who wanted some had had some and eventually the remaining few slices had to be thrown away. It was just too much chocolate for college students so unaccustomed to such richness. Nevertheless, it was one of the most glorious, wild, and serendipitous experiences I had in college.

#reallifestory