Bake-nstein: The Art [and Timeline] of a Competitive Bake Sale
The Night Before
6:43 pm: The first Venmo trickles in, someone stealing off their suite-mate’s freshly-baked cookie pan.
11:22 pm: A frantic text hits my messages, insisting that their team has been wronged.
11:36 pm: Another text sieges my phone, insisting that their team has somehow been disadvantaged in the planning of this bake sale. I laugh to myself, switch my phone to Do Not Disturb, and turn in for the night, not knowing what the next day would hold.
The Day-Of
9:15 am: I leave my apartment, baked goods, cash bag, and food labels in tow, ready to get started.
9:35 am: The first person arrives for her shift. The battle has officially begun.
10:02 am: The day’s first Venmo. “Montague.”
12:22 pm: A tally of the payments so far shows that the Montagues are in the lead.
The Capulets do not like this.
1:43 pm: The Capulets have rallied hard and pulled ahead, but at this point its anyone’s game.
1:59 pm: There is excellent social media being posted as a result of this bake sale. Creativity is at an all time high, but so is a vengeful spirit.
2:11 pm: I receive a text informing me that some people are “just really good at bake sales.” I guess you never know where you will find a hidden talent.
2:23 pm: I receive my first Venmo from someone’s father. Parents have started picking sides. Is this how Real Feuds begin?
2:52 pm: Both teams reach the $100 milestone on Venmo! A producer’s dream!
3:45 pm: I receive my second Venmo from a parent, who heard about the first parent and felt the need to get involved. I suddenly fear I’ve created a monster.
4:10 pm: Insults have gotten quite personal. The words CapuLOSER and MontaPOO have been thrown around. I begin to consider hiding under a table until the sale has finished.
4:41 pm: I check in on the Montague table, but one person sits there alone. “Where is the other person?” I ask. I learn that they are running around Barnard’s campus, selling baked goods to the masses.
5:13 pm: I eat my sixth brownie of the day, relishing the tasty, fudge-y goodness, but wondering if I will manage to eat something with protein or.. a vegetable at all that day.
5:23 pm: My computer is dead, so there is no way of tallying up the remaining Venmos until I can plug it in again.
5:42 pm: I sit near the Capulet table, counting down the seconds until 6:00 and the tables close. The competitive energy is so palpable I can taste it.
5:59 pm: Each team makes final, desperate attempts to sell the last of their baked goods.
6:00 pm: I pack up the Capulet Tupperwares and baked goods and make haste for the second table.
6:10 pm: The Montague table is closed and packed up. I shove the money in my backpack and jump on the subway to catch a show, ignoring the three texts I have asking “WHO WON?!”
11:21 pm: I eat my first (and only) real meal of the day. It contains protein AND a vegetable.
12:03 am: The cash is counted, the Venmos tallied, and the winner has been announced. Congratulations #TeamCapulet.
The Next Day
8:03 pm: I sit at ensemble rehearsal, hoping desperately that everyone will come to pick up their Tupperwares and baking pans.
One Week Later
3:16 pm: A plate, which does not belong to me, sits sullenly in my room, waiting to be returned to its owner. It is a nuisance, sure, but a small price to pay for a successful bake sale.
The author, Tina Simpson, is a four-time producer and nine-time bake sale organizer. What Light Through Yonder Window Bakes//It Is The Yeast, And Juliet Is The Sun was the most financially successful bake sale (competitive or otherwise) in recent KCST history. It was a monster, to be sure, but a benevolent one. She is grateful to everyone who helped make this bake sale a success!