Out of the Closet

OK, I’ve never told anybody this before for fear of rejection and persecution. But it’s time I came out. So here goes . . . . I love fruitcake. There. I’ve said it and I feel better about it. I am one of twelve people on this planet that actually loves fruitcake. I find the denseness to be comforting. It’s not fluffy and puffy like most sissy cakes. And I love those strange pieces of fruit. It’s like a mystery: what are they? How did they get that way? This cake has its secrets. It is dark and aged, like an old book; like a small, ancient chest with secret treasures inside. Regular cakes are obvious and two dimensional. You know them immediately. But if you want discovery and revelation, fruitcake is for you. You are an adventurer.
I am attempting to connect up with other Fruitcake Lovers (FLs). We will form a clandestine society like the Opus Dei or the Rosicrucians. We will develop secret handshakes, signs and arcane symbols so as to recognize each other but not be found out by others. We will conduct secret meetings on moonless nights and skulk around dark alleys in dangerous neighborhoods. I’ve always wanted to skulk. We will discuss origins and histories and conduct odd ceremonies involving exotic cloth, imported incense and charts in forgotten languages. And we will talk disparagingly about the Haters of Fruitcake (HOFFERS) and their shallowness and stupidity.
I feel better now that I’ve come out but I’m still not going to reveal my identity. I may be honest, but I’m not crazy.