Neurotypicals: Stop Asking for a “Little Bite” of My Cake!

You’re with a group of people at a restaurant, diner or café, and after your meal you still have plenty of room for their Death by Chocolate or Chocolate Scream cake.

You notice that only two other people out of the eight total ordered a dessert. You know what that means.

It means the moment the server sets your cake down, the people who didn’t order dessert will be staring at yours bug-eyed, expecting you to offer some of it to them.

Or, they’ll be brazen enough to ask, “Oh, can I have a little bite?” or some other NT phrasing that makes the bluntness of any autistic person pale like a ghost in comparison.

Why can’t these neurotypicals order the damn cake if they want some?

If they have only enough room for “one little bite,” why don’t they still order it for take-home? What if four people want “one little bite”?

These supposedly normal neurotypicals, who allegedly are superior to Autistics at reading social cues, never consider the possibility that the woman who ordered that big wedge of chocolate layer cake is STILL HUNGRY and wants every bite to herself.

I’ll be honest here. The only people who’ve ever expected me to give some of my cake to them were my parents and a sister.

It happened only once with my sister, in the presence of my parents. This right off the bat means a distinct set of rules: Let her have some; don’t upset my mother.

As for my parents wanting some of my cake, they’ve always gotten a free pass on this — for obvious reasons.

In fact, one time I was eating my chocolate layer cake at the restaurant when suddenly I catch this shimmering thing in my peripheral vision: A fork was swiftly heading towards my cake.

It plunged in and absconded with a piece. The fork belonged to my mother. Again, she gets a free pass.

My mother has also told me, “Make sure you offer your father some of your cake when it comes.”

I’d do so, and in fact, over time, became perfectly okay with this ritual, despite him usually ordering dessert (which was typically a pie).

But it’s a WHOLE NEW ANIMAL when a non-family member asks, “Can I have a little piece?”

I’ll be honest: This has never happened to me — a non-family member asking.

But it’s something I’ve thought about here and there, because it could happen. I’ve also read about NTs complaining about this.

• One need not be autistic to find this practice obnoxious.
• Many NTs loathe it, I’m sure.

However…I’ll bet the farm that every single person who asks for a bite is a neurotypical. Or at least 98%. I can’t imagine a person on the Spectrum making this intrusion.

Maybe out of a thousand people, who ask for a bite off of a non-family member’s plate of food, five are autistic?

Nobody knows, but come ON, it’s easy to imagine that only a neurotypical would commit this social blunder.

Why don’t NTs ask for a bite of someone’s salad, mashed potatoes, steak, chicken, fish or pasta?

What IS it about dessert that neurotypicals feel they have a right to request a bite?

How to Get Out of Sharing Your Dessert

Order the dessert to go. This frees me up for eating all I want of the main course instead of having to push some away to make room for dessert.

Furthermore, I enjoy chocolate cake better when I’m very hungry for it.

So go ahead, load up on the killer Italian bread because you’ll be ordering that giant wedge cake to go!

One time I read in a popular advice column a letter by a woman who signed off as “Dessert Warrior,” complaining that servers tended to set her dessert away from her eating space, kind of towards the center of the table. And there’d be multiple forks with it.

The servers made the assumption that the lone cake-orderer wanted to share it with everyone else.

The letter writer was flummoxed over how to prevent servers from doing this.

The advice columnist suggested that she seek out the server after the order and, in private, make the request.

Another solution is, upon receiving the dessert, immediately touching it with your fingers — in a way that makes fellow diners think you’re somehow testing the texture.

Nobody will want a bite after your fingers were all over it.

Another solution is, upon receiving it, to put your nose close to it and inhale deeply, saying “Mmmmm! It smells SO good!”

But perhaps the ultimate solution is to simply reply to the request: “How about if I get first dibs at it, and if there’s any left over, you can have it.”

Another solution is to simply say, “No, you may not. I’m hungry enough for every single bite. However, why don’t you order some yourself?”

Few NTs would have the “nerve” to yield these verbal responses. They’d perceive them as very rude — as though the person who asks for “a little bite” is exuding pristine social graces and their feelings have priority!

However, an autistic person is apt to be quite honest and straightforward and respond, “No, you may not. I don’t like sharing my coveted desserts, the best part of my meals.”

Of course, if they’re masking, they’ll fake a smile and say “Sure! Go ahead!” while inside cringing. Even some NTs will pretend it’s perfectly fine with them.

It also depends on WHO’S asking. What if it’s your new boyfriend’s mother whom you’re meeting for the very first time at that restaurant? Hmmm…

What if it’s the woman at your job who just hired you? What if it’s a potential client for your business? What if it’s a manager at work who’s in a position to promote you? Hmmm…

But usually, it’s some ding-dong whose opinion of you has absolutely NO impact on your success in life, in the workplace or in personal relationships.

Simply be honest. Tell them, “Excuse me, but I don’t let others sample my cake.”

This article was inspired by an article by Sarah McManus about the flak she’s gotten when asking the server to omit the ice cream on her warm cake!

Lorra Garrick has been covering medical, fitness and cybersecurity topics for many years, having written thousands of articles for print magazines and websites, including as a ghostwriter. She’s also a former ACE-certified personal trainer. She has a clinical diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder.