Bun Cakes

Booths such as for waffle cakes (one such tent/booth has been moving around Mt Orab. At Radio Shack for a while. Then at Brown County Automotive.)

Guy named Mark (a composite of several Marks I have worked with) was selling franchises. The product was buns made like cakes. The more popular designs were the praying man (pretzel shaped) and smiley faces.

Mark; tall, curly dishwater-blond hair, burly. Briefcase and book in hand. (One of the Marks quit fast food to sell insurance)

Lisa and I decided to open a bun cake business together, selling saffron smiley face buncakes. We chose as our location a space in the Bethel shopping plaza, high on the hill at Charity&Plane Streets. (No shopping plaza in Bethel; no hill at Charity&Plane)

We put up beaded curtains and played tinkly music, and were, in general, somewhat hippie, at least for our buncake business. 

Mark wanted us to go more conventional, but we were somehow able to prove that we were building a loyal and purchasing clientele, and he backed off, because we were showing a profit.

Then Helen bought into the franchise and her store was in Peebles, behind the restaurant she was manager at. The places were all close by, but to go to her buncakes shop from her restaurant you had to go back out on the highway and back into another parking lot and go way back in. But she thought it was a great idea, and she was having fun with selling the buncakes. She used several designs.

Helen brought the franchise and Mark to the attention of a woman named Frances  that she called Frankie. (She has a friend called Frankie; she posts to her occasionally. Also, Re had an Aunt Frances; a brother-in-law Francis,; and I have a writer friend Frances.) This Frankie is/was  short, blonde, and round. Very curly hair. Round face, pouty lips. blue eyes. 

Frankie bought into the franchise and called her shop Fatso's, and added powdered sugar or cinnamon sugar to the yellow buns.

Mark was running around to all these stores, trying to keep up with all of his shop managers. Helen was driving him crazy because he never knew which store she would be at -- her work-for-hire store/job, or her bought for herself buncakes store.

We were all supposed to be meeting somewhere, and Mark was late. It was night, the venue (whatever it was) was gloomy. Frankie was slouching half off a bar stool.