"Butterlane"

This is going to be short and simple, and I figure the best places should be rewarded for their excellence as long as the bad places are berated for their inadequacies.

I was getting lunch with my sister, and I was on a quest to not eat shitty for a few days.
I did so well last night and didn't eat anything shitty. I even avoided the "almond treat" from Amy's when it looked like everything I would want in life. Perhaps it's best I don't eat it now, or else I'll have every reason to die having just gotten everything I want.

So we were walking to 7A on 7a, and I noticed across the way "ButterLane." I had only heard about this place because I thought they were Buttercup when I called information. Little did I realize how much I insulted this establishment by thinking as much.

The window display had two cupcakes almost convincing me the place did not sell cupcakes, but I saw a tray filled with them through the window. Nothing was labelled, and the menu made no sense to me. Make my own cupcake? I don't know if I'm qualified . . . so I asked the guy:

"Sir, I would like two of your finest cupcakes. Pick them for me."
"Uhh, how about cherry and Elvis?"
"Is that peanut butter?"
"Yes."
"FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME."

Then I had sex with the guy.

No.

He gave me the cupcakes, and I went outside to sit on the bench with my smoking sister. I have a habit of trying frosting first, so I took a dab of cherry frosting. Oh, God. Then I took a bite of the cupcake, OH GOD! IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD!

It tasted like . . . cherries, and the cake tasted like moist, yet fluffy, yet delicious, yellow butter cake. I almost couldn't believe it.
I took a bite of the peanut butter one, which was actually peanut butter frosting on top of banana cake.
What the FUCK was that?
I almost cannot accept that it exists, my goodness. Densely flavored banana cupcake married perfectly with peanut butter icing. I almost felt the urge to walk back in, slam my fist on the counter and scream,
"I DEMAND TO TALK TO YOUR MANAGER!" "Are you the manager? I want to tell you my body is yours, and you can do with me what you like, even murder me because I've seen and accepted Jesus, and he's in my mouth and my body."

I cannot believe I had this experience today. I don't know if I can make eye-contact with Amy's bread because I feel I cheated on them. If Amy's gets mad, I'll just tell them they need to get better.
Indeed, isn't that what life's about?
When you see something better than yourself, do you give up or feel the urge to improve?

Seriously, Butterlane on 7th street between 1st and Avenue A. Go there. I have nothing amusing to say about this. I am dead serious. I want to write to the owner and thank them for the experience.

So, in conclusion, I haven't eaten anything "shitty."

Thank you, Butterlane.
Thank you.