The “proud” recipient of three summer 2012 wedding invitations, I was wondering out loud to my new coworkers at the trade publication I work at, expressing my apprehension at finally entering the wedding attendance stage of my vicenarian days. My boss happens to be passing by. He stops, looks at me, and interjects with: “It’s like Japanese Christmas cake.”
All four of us look at him with giant question marks hanging over our heads.
Silas casually takes a seat at the head of the reporting island. “It’s this metaphor they have for girls in Japan. Christmas cake.”
I frown, nonplussed. “Still confused.”
Now Silas smiles. “You know that Christmas is on the 25th?”
Dramatic (insert: awkward) pause.
“So Christmas cake is good through 21, 22, 23, 24… then once you hit 25, it starts to go bad and no one wants to buy it anymore.”
I resist the urge to introduce him to my five-fingered friend and flash him my most charming grimace instead.