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“It was seriously so sweet,” she relayed to Caroline over the phone as she walked down the street with her yoga mat tucked under her arm. “When I saw him walk in emptyhanded on Valentine’s Day, I was, like, pissed. But then when he told me about the cooking class he had scheduled, I was so excited.”
Looking down at her Apple Watch, she saw she had just under an hour to get ready before she and Todd would head to Chef’s Space for a class Todd had scheduled days before. Unbeknownst to her, Todd spent the better part of his lunch break on February 15th begging the general manager to let them in for the already-sold-out class that she desired, Donuts & Champagne.
“Okay, bitch,” she said as she approached her apartment. “I need to go get cute for this. I’ll send you lots of Snaps.”
She crouched in front of the pre-heating oven in order to get a good Portrait Mode angle of the champagne flute that she’d just filled. Upon editing it, she realized that there wasn’t yet a geographic location on Instagram Stories for Chef’s Space, which caused her to have to enter one on her own on the fly.
Todd looked around. “Do you think they have anything besides champagne here?” he asked while looking around at the other couples. He hadn’t realized it was BYOB ahead of time, so he was left with only the option of the $16 bottles provided by the class itself.
“Alright, class!” a young woman covered in an apron chimed in from the front. She was so tiny that you could barely see her through the dozen or so attendees, and she definitely didn’t look like someone who indulged in too many donuts or glasses of champagne.
“Today, we’re going to whip up something near and dear to my heart — glazed donuts.”
In Todd’s mind, this didn’t seem all that difficult. Their obsession with The Great British Baking Show not only convinced him that donuts were on the easier side of pastries, but it also fueled her desire to take a cooking class herself. He would have much rather taken a class on cooking fish or making sauces, but he also knew that those classes wouldn’t be as photo friendly as pastries and sparkling wine.
As the teacher droned on, Todd looked to his left and saw his counterpart checking her phone which sat flat on the cutting board in front of her. Every 30 seconds or so, she swiped up on her story to check and see how many people had viewed it. About 163 as of about ten minutes into the class.
The studio itself appeared to be something out of a Pinterest board created in collaboration with Reece Witherspoon and Gwyneth Paltrow. With black painted cupboards hovering over marble countertops, Todd couldn’t stop thinking about how much rent must have been. “I guess that explains why it’s $155 per class,” he thought.
“Babe, are you going to help over here?” she asked.
Todd, who had just been offered (and accepted) a beer from another couple who noticed he was without a drink, snapped out of his daze and saw her holding a jar of flour over a bowl sitting on a scale.
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized. “Are we sure this is the right first step?”
“I mean, that’s lit-er-all-y what she’s telling us to do right now, Todd. Are you even paying attention?”
After convincing Todd to pour the flour himself, she again picked up her phone and took a photo of him intended to go on her story. Todd smiled despite having no idea what he was doing, and she promptly captioned it “Cooking classes with this heartthrob” in one of the new fonts Instagram recently began offering.
As the class droned on, Todd soon realized that they had simply paid over $300 in total for the experience and a few glasses of cheap champagne rather than the actual donuts or insider knowledge on how to make them. He wasn’t hating the experience, but he also wasn’t learning anything that he hadn’t already learned while watching Gordon Ramsay videos on YouTube as a recent post-grad.
It wasn’t until they stopped frying the donuts that they started to warm up even more to the couple next to them. The ones who had offered Todd a glass of beer from the growler they’d brought.
“I don’t want this to come off as too forward,” she began saying to them, “but I am totally stealing this outfit from you.”
Flattered, she introduced herself. “Why thank you,” she commented while smiling ear to ear. “I’m Claire.”
Generic chatter ensued. How they both received this gift as a Valentine’s Day present, what they did for a living (or what they didn’t do for a living), which neighborhood they live in. It was enough information exchanged that the door was open to exchange phone numbers after the class concluded, but not enough conversation to justify following each other on Instagram just yet.
Knowing what she now knew about Claire and with the donuts sitting perfectly covered in homemade glaze, it was her perfect opportunity to ask her to take a photo. Based the outfit she had assembled for the night’s class, it was a no-brainer that she probably had a great Instagram aesthetic.
“Claire, girl, can I ask you a favor?”
Without missing a beat, Claire reached out and said, “Uh, duh, of course I’ll take a photo of you but only if you do the same for Tom and I after.”
It was love at first bake.
With thirty new photos taken from different angles and perspectives, she took her phone back and was amazed at the shots that Claire had gotten for her. “Oh my Godddd,” she remarked, “These are amaze.”
“I mean,” she continued, “I know we, like, just met, but are you doing anything this weekend?” .