Missed “Dirty Danish – Part One”?  Catch up at http://cookiesbydave.com/dirty-danish-part-one/.

Artist’s interpretation of the delicious and highly sought after strawberry and cream danish, before its mishap.

At the end of yesterday’s episode, we left with Dave in a pit of despair.  He was attending a seminar in the proximity of a “close sitting” woman, who had (some would argue) caused him to drop his free conference danish.  Then she had picked up his fallen pastry and handed it back to him (gasp!).

Now sit back, grab some popcorn or your favorite pastry, and enjoy the exciting conclusion of “Dirty Danish” starring Owen Wilson as “Dave, the reluctant seminar attending bureaucrat” and some unknown plain Jane actress as the random “close sitting” stranger lady.

Before I continue, I would like to address a recent question.  “Dave (the question goes), would you have reacted differently to the ‘close sitting’ woman, if she was ‘drop dead gorgeous?’”  Hum, please pause with me, as I reflect on this question.  (Patiently waiting, as I ponder the question…  insert sound of me clearing my throat to answer.)  The problem was one of social cluelessness.  Social cluelessness on such a grand scale that even ‘drop dead gorgeousness’ could not overcome it.  Say for instance it was Scarlett Johansson who had taken the seat too close to me and had caused me to drop my danish, I probably could have overlooked the mishap.  But if it was Scarlett Johansson minus any social skills, I would have still been annoyed, but yes I probably would have taken the seat next to her.  There, hope that clears that up.

Points of clarification.  Scarlett Johansson was not at the training session, although I imagine she would have worn this outfit to the session, if she was in attendance.  The “close sitting” woman did not resemble Ms. Johansson.  The whole question of Scarlett Johansson sitting close to me is silly, since (A) I am happily married to the most wonderful, talented, beautiful, and fully-capable-of-reading-this-post woman in the world, (B) I am way too old for Ms. Johansson, and (C) she no longer returns my calls.  There, I hope this puts to rest any lingering questions about Ms. Johansson’s interest in me.

This Scarlett Johansson photo and caption commentary is exclusive Director’s Cut footage available only at www.CookiesbyDave.com.

As I set my now sullied danish back on its too-small-for-a-danish-of-its-diameter Styrofoam plate, I heard the words that all conference participants dread.  From the front of the room, the facilitator announced, “Now, I want all of you to take your chairs and form small groups.”  Ugh, participation.  Ugh, small groups.  Could it get worse?  I took my dirty danish, along with my briefcase, notepad, pencil, papers, rapidly cooling cup of coffee, and conference schedule and turned my chair toward a rapidly forming group.  And there sitting too close to me once again was the same woman, who had previously sat too close to me and caused me to drop my pastry.  I had an opportunity to scoot over one seat next to a random man, who had joined the circle, but that idea exhausted me.  It was time for me to stop running.  I had journeyed far enough.  It was time for me to rest.  It was time for my danish to enjoy a chair of its own.  A chair to my right.  A chair well within my arm’s reach.  The danish, the dirty danish, would be there, just in case I needed it.  Just in case of an emergency.

Sitting in my small group, I started to recognize early signs of trouble.  As other groups began embracing their assignment, my group seemed confused from the outset.  Question (not the actual question, but you will get the idea)…  “What qualities would you like to see in an improved tire?”  Acceptable answers include, “Better grip of the road,” “An improved ability to whisk away water,” “Longer product life.”  All acceptable answers.  My group began debating whether or not the tire should be round.  Good Lord!  Lost cause from the start.  Even the nearest walls were too far away for me to bang my head into.

Seeing that my small group was never going to complete their assignment, I began thinking of the danish sitting next to me.  Sure it had rolled for a good one or two feet along the carpeted banquet room floor.  Sure it had landed on its strawberry and cream filled top.  Sure it was handed back to me by a ‘close sitting’ stranger woman.  But this was a rapidly developing emergency.  Plus, the danish looked fine.  If no one had ever seen it drop on the floor, you would never know.  In fact, the only person who knew of the incident was a socially clueless person, who was now debating the one suggestion that I had made to the group (and let me be perfectly clear that my suggestion was a pretty good one).  She would probably never notice if I took a bite of the danish.  No one else in the group would even suspect that anything was unusual.  The window was closing.  My coffee was getting cold.  If I was going to eat the pastry, it had to happen now.  The small group had very little hope of producing anything of value.  The only value that was to be had was my enjoyment of the flaky pastry, filled with strawberry and cream goodness, and not a stray carpet fiber to be found.

As I tore off a small piece and popped it into my mouth, I felt liberated.  I had been forced to relocate, my danish had been soiled, my simple pleasures had been turned into stress, but I could take control.  I could enjoy myself.  I could eat my danish, if I wanted to.  I was back!

Finishing off the last bite and following it with the final sip of lukewarm coffee, I felt liberated.  I was no longer concerned about the ‘close sitting’ woman.  I was no longer worried about my small group, which exhibited winning abilities on par with the ‘62 Mets.  I spoke my mind.  I tried to contribute, even as my group failed to produce anything of much value.

I had tried.  I had comeback.  I had overcome.  The danish was no longer a symbol of disappointment.  It was a sign of triumph.  A pastry to be held high.  Once disgraced, but eventually enjoyed.  We should all live to see such a satisfying conclusion, whether or not a stranger is sitting too close.  [Insert dramatic music composed by John Williams.  Fade to black.]

The End.

If only fate had granted me two danish, just like the two delicious Pop-Tarts that come in every space age crinkly metallic paperish package.  On a side note, generations from now, the world will realize that our biggest environmental blunder was the Pop-Tart packaging.  What is it?  Will it ever go away?  Could those wrappers even be contained within Yucca Mountain?  Our age may never know.

“Dirty Danish” – the two part Internet event – has been brought to you by Kellogg’s.  K, E, double L, O, double G, good.