Scary Plastic Clown Heads

When I was a kid, Wilton sold terrifying clown head picks. You’d see them jammed in huge globs of frosting on cupcakes and cakes in almost every grocery store.

Remember these?

Vintage Wilton Clown Head
( Wanna know where I got this one from? Keep reading.)

For some reason I had assumed that they were eventually replaced with a more kid-friendly version of the clown. But by the time I started working for a bakery, I found a stash of these little plastic heads in a drawer in the back of the store.  A full drawer.  As in never used.

Boooo.... I'm still scary!

These were smaller and shiny–I just didn’t notice the difference at first since I had nothing to compare them to other than my own imperfect memory. I grabbed one to take home with vague ideas of terrorizing a friend with it for her birthday.

So, how are they generally used?

Heh.

Heh heh heh. They’re very popular now… at the Cake Wrecks website.

Jen at cakewrecks.blogspot.com has an odd fascination for plastic clown heads, so I’ll let her explain here.

And here, although this post may not be quite safe for kids.

And to answer a question before you ask it–No.  We never used those clown heads at my bakery.  In fact, I think someone eventually threw them all away.

A few years later, I left the grocery store bakery to go back to the tech industry. There, one of my coworkers stopped me and asked if I was interested in a box of cake decorating supplies that his Mom left when she died. Decorations are expensive, and I still do stuff on the side, so I said yes.

What I didn’t think to ask is how long ago she had died.

The decorations were from the mid-70’s (I found an invoice with a date).  They were hideously out of date, the glue on most of the plastic had changed color (who uses that much plastic anymore?), and at the bottom of the box there was a bag of the old Wilton clown heads.

And they were uglier than I remembered.  I pulled one out to go with my other plastic clown head and threw the box in the garage with the rest of the stuff I didn’t feel like dealing with.

This past Monday, I decided that after almost 10 years, my garage should finally be able to hold my car. In the process of clearing out all of our crap, I rediscovered this stupid box.  And out of the entire box, the only two items I saved were an unused Holly Hobby cake pan and the bag of clown heads.

I’m keeping the Holly Hobby pan for now, but the vintage plastic clown heads are currently on their way to a new home.  A home where they will be “appreciated”.

Sampson with a Clown Head

Bwah hah hah ha ha!

Ordering a Cake while Drunk

Please don’t do it.
I swear that the weirdos who need something from the bakery at the local megamart wait until right before I get to clock out to ask me for help.  Normally I only work there on Mondays, and Mondays are pretty laid back…that is, customer-wise, work is still on a GO! GO! GO! speed.  But this past week, I agreed to work an extra day to fill in for people taking off for spring break (big mistake, but not one I knew about in time because the chick who schedules our caterings forgot to mention that there we were catering a wedding the day afterwards… but that issue is another post… well, actually another rant, but I’ll save that for when I’m not still pissed off about it).

ANYWAY… I dislike working the weekend at the grocery store because that’s when customers are at their worst.  People who are probably quite nice at home will scream and yell and behave like assholes. 

  • I’m sorry that you forgot to order a cake for the wedding and you have only 30 minutes to get it there–I do not have a cake in that size that’s not still frozen.
  • I’m sorry that you spent the last month planning a Disney Princess birthday party for your daughter and you forgot to order the cake for today’s party, and also that we sold the last Disney Princess deco kit a few hours ago and we’re temporarily out of them until our next shipment comes in on Tuesday… but you somehow remembered to order the matching balloons in our party center a week ago… and just forgot the cake… even when the party center told you they could order it for you so you didn’t have to.
  • Oops, you forgot to tell us that the face on the cake was supposed to have a goatee.  I know that you signed off on the image we drew to your specifications and you didn’t notice it then… but I’m not giving you the cake for free because we did exactly what you told us to do.  You are the reason we don’t do freehand drawings anymore.
  • Just because the name on the order forms (not the cakes) wasn’t the one you gave me when you came in to pick up the cakes doesn’t mean that you can yell at me about having a bad attitude.  That was the one time I almost reached across the counter to strangle you before my manager came over to see what you and your two friends were screaming about.  So the person who ordered the cake was Dominic instead of Shawna?  Who gives a fuck?  All three cakes were exactly what you wanted and you even admitted that before you went bonkers.
  • No, we don’t carry that brand.  Please stop yelling at me.  The corporate office makes that decision.  Damn it!  I said stop yelling!
  • Sorry, but we’re a grocery store bakery.  Our cakes are baked in our bakeshop in San Antonio and are frozen and shipped here.  We just decorate them.  No, unless you’re at a Whole Foods or Central Market, grocery stores do not bake their cakes on site.  No, I don’t care what you say… Walmart doesn’t bake theirs on-site either.  Yes, I DO know this for a fact.  Please lady, go to Walmart and leave me alone.

Yes, these have all happened… and they’re only a fraction of the joyful experience I’ve had since this placed opened. 

This weekend I got a new story to add to my list.  Thirty minutes before I was done for the day, a lady and her teenaged daughter came up to the counter to order a cake.  This took quite a while because this lady was having trouble standing up, paused between every few words, had trouble remembering what she had asked for the moment before, and she smelled like she had been marinating in a vast amount of cheap beer.  This makes taking a cake order a very non-entertaining experience.   Her daughter tried to help and was loudly told to shut up.  Sadly, she wanted a cake that we don’t decorate ourselves and can’t customize.  After telling her this several times, she finally decided to order another cake…. and then proceeded to try to get the same one by asking for it in a different way.  When I pointed this out, she actually snarled at me (kinda weird when it happens in real life) and staggered off, leaving me with a long line of customers that had built up while I was dealing with her for over 15 minutes.

And I detest the smell of cheap beer.

20 Days