Here's an excerpt from the book:
My name is Elizabeth Tucker. I’m Elizabeth to my
mother, but for as long as I can remember, I’ve been
Lizzy to everyone else. And for as long as I can remember,
I’ve baked cupcakes. I enrolled in the culinary arts program
at Johnson & Wales in Rhode Island right out of high school,
hoping to someday get a job as a pastry chef. I graduated
J&W in the top ninety- three percent of my class, and I would
have graduated higher, but I flunked gravy. My gravy had
lumps in it, and that pretty much sums up my life so far. Not
that it’s been all bad, more that it hasn’t been entirely smooth.
I grew up in Virginia and when I was in third grade, Billy
Kruger gave me the nickname Buzzard Beak, and I carried it
with me all through grade school. I got my brown eyes and
distinctive nose from Grandpa Harry, and while the nose
wasn’t great, I told myself it could have been worse, because
Billy Kruger’s nickname was Poop Pants.
And then when I was in eighth grade, during a moment ofmisguided curiosity, I made out with Ryan Lukach, and the
jerk told everyone I wore a padded bra. I mean, give me a
break here. I was a late bloomer. Anyway, the truth is, my bra
was so padded I didn’t know I was getting felt up.
I got engaged to fellow classmate Anthony Muggin while I
was at Johnson & Wales. Two weeks after graduation and a
week before the wedding, Anthony and his Uncle Gordo
were caught hijacking a refrigerator truck loaded with sides
of beef. It turned out to be a lucky thing, because after I
visited Anthony in jail and returned the ring, I sobbed myself
through a couple tumblers of vodka, fell off the toilet
in a drunken stupor, crashed into a sink, and broke my
nose. When they patched me up, I was no longer Buzzard
Beak.
So here I am with the cutest nose in town, and I’ve finally
grown breasts. They’re not huge, but they’re better than a
poke in the eye, and I’ve been told they’re perky. Perky is
good, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment