Cake Tour
It started like any ordinary day, with no sense that anything particularly remarkable was going to happen. I was hanging out with Mark Zuckerberg, just the two of us, making small talk. It wasn’t awkward, surprisingly. In fact, it was the kind of conversation where you quickly realize, “Hey, we could actually be friends.” Despite all of Zuckerberg’s notoriety and the weight of the tech world on his shoulders, he was laid-back, relatable even. We talked about everything from the simplest things—music, movies, the little everyday annoyances—to more reflective topics like life’s rhythms and the weird serendipity of friendships. We were having a genuinely good time, and neither of us wanted it to end.
So, on impulse, I suggested, “Hey, you wanna go get a cup of coffee?” He didn’t hesitate.
“Oh yeah, no doubt,” he replied with a grin. But instead of heading to some chic café, he said, “I know a great way to get coffee,” as if he was in on some secret adventure. “You’ll love this. I’ve got this bus…”
Before I could ask what kind of bus he was talking about, we were already boarding. It was no ordinary bus, though—it was more like a traveling lounge, complete with its own beds draped in plush comforters. The strangest thing? Zuckerberg had this special comforter with a little bubble sewn into it, so he could burrow completely under and still see out. It was oddly charming.
As the bus began its journey, I realized this wasn’t just a trip for coffee. We were stopping at bakeries—one after another—each one more extraordinary than the last. The first place was this sleek, modern cake shop with towering confections that looked too perfect to eat. But then, we were in this cozy French countryside patisserie, where the scent of freshly baked brioche and vanilla filled the air. And after that? A rustic Tuscan farmhouse, surrounded by fields and olive trees, where cakes were stacked high in every corner. It was like traveling through a series of dreamscapes, each one with its own distinct charm, yet all united by the abundance of cake.
Cake was everywhere—lavish, beautiful cakes, crafted to perfection with glistening frosting and intricate designs. At first, I just admired them from a distance, feeling like I was in some sort of culinary art gallery. But the temptation was too much. In a moment of pure indulgence, I jammed my hand into one of those perfect cakes, ripping off a chunk and devouring it before anyone could notice. My hand was sticky with frosting, but no one seemed to care, not even Zuckerberg. It was like a secret between me and the cake, a stolen moment of pleasure.
Eventually, the bus stopped at an outdoor bar. It wasn’t a typical bar—more like a casual, pop-up setup with a party vibe. The bartender, clearly friends with the bus driver and Zuckerberg, greeted us like old pals. The guy had a sleek tap of Stella Artois, and we sat down to sip from these elegant little 10-ounce glasses, the beer crisp and refreshing in the late afternoon sun. The scene was laid-back, almost surreal, as if the world had slowed down, and all that mattered was this fleeting moment of camaraderie.
As the conversation flowed, so did the beer. Soon enough, the relaxed atmosphere transformed into a lively, spontaneous party, with laughter and clinking glasses, all under the open sky. It felt like we could’ve stayed there forever, drifting from bakery to bakery, cake to cake, and from one serendipitous moment to the next.
