Pie Day

I’ve got this thing about free food, you see. If it’s free, good, and I’m invited to partake, I lose all restraint like a stack of papers being scattered in a steady breeze. Yesterday was an employer-provided pie day. The reason for which I knew not but assumed to be a simple morale booster. Regardless, Pie Day had been duly noted on my schedule with engorging to commence at 2:00.


February 26, 2010

It had been a productive week of work. A few minor chores remained before engaging the weekend and the unwinding tedium was to be broken up by pies. I heard the ruckus or the ambient noise, rather, of a large gathering. This I took to denote that 2:00 was upon us and that the pies had arrived and were being unleashed.

A quick visual revealed a congregation of personnel equipped with plastic forks and paper plates. They had assembled themselves in two lines flanking the pie runway. Several tables had been pushed together to accommodate what appeared to be about 20 pies. My desk was near the event, but given my low tolerance for lines and large groupings of people, I returned to my task of employment with the intent to return in ten minutes. My assessment and plan yielded more than satisfactory results. The lines were greatly reduced and the pie inventory remained abundant. By the time I had been sated four slices of pie were locked away sloshing about in my belly as I made a safe egress from the office later that afternoon.

‘Four slices,’ you ask. ‘Is this not excessive? How so you managed to consume them all?’

My initial foray was a slice of blueberry pie sharing the plate with a slice of chocolate no sugar pie. Blueberry was delicious, chocolate no sugar was disappointing. Seems someone made up for the lack of sugar by overloading it with salt. I couldn’t end on such a downer. And I would not. So a lemon meringue was called into duty to top off the bummer and it cheered me adequately to return to close out my week’s tasks. Not long passed, however, before I felt inclined to peruse the debris for a pie inventorying.

‘Were they now empty,’ I thought to myself. ‘What progress had my colleagues and I made on the pie front?’ I decided I would saunter over for a review of the rubble.

At the far end of the pie runway I spied a unique opportunity. A rhubarb pie. Yes, rhubarb! It was mislabeled as cherry, but clearly this was not the case to an experienced pie crusher. A moment’s hesitation as I considered the larger slice or the modest one. A few minutes later I was sitting at my desk having knocked back the larger selection.

I sat back and reflected on my lack of restraint. Maybe this was not healthy. Certainly this was not healthy. I couldn’t argue in favor of what I had done. Four slices. That’s a lot of pie for one fella’s belly. Yet I had no regrets. 24 hours later I know well that I’d do it all over again if I had the chance, only changing out the no sugar chocolate for a different pie. Maybe I’ve a problem, this free food decimation compulsion, but I seek not intervention.

The power ranking of my pie slices:
1) Lemon meringue
2) Blueberry
3) Rhubarb
4) Chocolate no sugar


How many sit ups does a guy need to do to neutralize that?
-klem