I’m pleased to announce a recent sighting – and scarfing – of Hostess orange cupcakes. Zingers too. They’ve been resurrected! When Hostess went lights out last year all anyone could talk about was Twinkies Twinkies Twinkies. Savvy NASDAQ investors even went so far as to stockpile boxes in their broom closets, thinking they could eventually “flip” them and make a profit. Meanwhile, nobody seemed to acknowledge the real tragedy: the related demise of the orange cupcake.
Back when Hostess was on the gallows, I rushed to the nearest Walgreen’s and bought me the very last pack of orange cupcakes in the store. Later, when it was time for me to feed, I became one of those sexy ladies in the commercials who eat luscious dark chocolate squares and bite their lips afterwards. Only with orange cupcakes. I didn’t even bother taking them out of the plastic wrapper. I shoved the whole thing directly into my mouth. All rolling my eyes in ecstasy and stuff.
I’ve been eating those things since I was a boy (now I’m a reptile). I was so small I’d only eat one cupcake and actually give the other to my brother. Which seems insane to me now. I’m nowhere near that generous anymore. Nowadays in order to share something like an orange cupcake I’d have to buy a separate package in addition to the one I was already buying. And I’d only share ONE of the ones from the “share” pack and just eat the other. This means that if I ever “shared” my orange cupcakes I’d be getting three instead of two. Everybody wins.
I patented this technique and call it “Selfish Sharing.” It’s basically effective with all food groups. When you’re on your way to a social engagement and you think you might have to share some food to avoid looking like a selfish prick, just make sure you buy double portions beforehand. You come out of it looking like the good guy!
Anyway, when the big news came that Hostess was restructuring and staging a comeback–with Twinkies marching at the head of the parade–I got to wondering if this also meant the return of Hostess orange cupcakes. I was too afraid/excited to commit myself to any real Internet research. I was scared of what I might find. I figured I’d rather just kinda see what happened.
Then the day came. Twinkies hit the shelves like they were trying to save Private Ryan. They were all over the place. Hostess chocolate cupcakes w/vanilla swirls on top (still not as good as their orange counterparts) came back too, as did those lame mini chocolate doughnuts. And some weird pink coconut mini-doughnuts too. But that was it. No orange cupcakes. No Zingers. I figured maybe the Twinkie-led invasion was only the first wave, a sort of trial period for Hostess, and that maybe later when the worst of the fighting was over the orange cupcakes would stroll in all fashionably late.
For old time’s sake, I bought some Twinkies. I was at the supermarket at the time. I had like all this low-fat healthy food and lettuce and stuff, and I went ahead and plopped a package of resurrected Twinkies on top of my Jenga tower of Lean Cuisine. A sort of “welcome back” purchase. Nothing to be ashamed of. But then some attractive girl got in line behind me and I started getting a little embarrassed about my Twinkie-buying aspirations.
Twinkies? I mean, what’s next? A Game Boy? A Tonka Truck? The lady at the register didn’t help matters either. She picked up my Twinkies and sort of wiggled them around for all the world to see. Just jiggled them around. All of a sudden I felt very much like I was buying condoms in a crowded drug store. I had an urge to say “Actually, ma’am, those so aren’t mine. They fell there.” Anyway, I didn’t say it. I sheepishly paid for my little-boy food and ran away before the register lady could mispronounce my last name again.
I think I ate the Twinkies right there in my car. I don’t like waiting to eat food when it’s already within biting distance. I’ve once eaten an ENTIRE LARGE PIZZA right there in my car after getting caught in severely mild traffic on the freeway—for which I consider myself something of a pizza legend. Anyway, I ate me the Twinkies 2.0 and they were fine. Maybe even a little better than I’d remembered them. Maybe I was just extra hungry.
But the weeks and months passed and still nothing on the shelves Hostess-wise except Twinkies and chocolate cupcakes and clown doughnuts and yadda yadda yadda. I came to believe that the whole Hostess resurrection thing maybe only applied to a few key factories. The ones that made Twinkies and clown doughnuts. I pictured a threadbare swarm of vagrants and sunken-faced Breaking Bad villains inhabiting what remained of the orange cupcake factory. Oh well. Glad I sort of had mouth-sex with those last orange cupcakes. It was a good time. A fine goodbye.
That brings us to today. I’m in my trusted Walgreen’s again, fighting off the urge to walk sniffingly down the aisle with all the Halloween candy, when I see an old friend right there by the register. A pack of orange cupcakes! Right next to a bunch of Zingers too! (I’m not going to get into Zingers in this post, but they deserve some attention too). There were plenty of Zingers in stock, but only one pack of orange cupcakes left. I bought a pack of each.
The Zingers didn’t last very long, but somehow I managed to save the orange cupcakes for after dinner. They were amazing. Total mouth sex like before. It was like they never went away at all.
Orange cupcakes are back, ladies and gentlemen. And I’m instructing you to care. If you’ve somehow gone your entire life without trying one, I’d have to insist you do so now. One pack won’t hurt. Unless you buy it in front of a hot girl or something.
As for me, I look forward to selfishly sharing some orange cupcakes with all people that matter in my life. Because that means more for me!
If you enjoyed this article, check out what I think about Cadbury mini eggs.