I’m in debt a post about pie, specifically about pie shared between blogging, and now real-life, friends. Pie that was not merely crust filled with peanut butter and banana creme, but pie which, by joint decision, represented a mutual and indeed unifying friend who was not present. It is difficult to be the second person to write about anything, symbolic pie included. Perhaps being the second person to write about a topic should require that one write in the second person. So.
You sat across each other in a booth with plastic upholstery. It was comfortable, familiar, if not quaint. You weren’t even nervous when you met, you were old friends. You were new friends, too, and the pie was on sale that night so you each bought a slice. You probably could have talked all night, about books and writing and faded sitcoms. Nothing is embarrassing with this friend. “Who was your favorite Baby-Sitter? Dawn?” “Dawn!” “Of course.” “Of course.”And your mutual friend, you both bemoaned her absence but christened your pie as her proxy. This was understood simply as fact, which you sincerely appreciated. Why flock a good truth with unnecessary bits of qualifying humor? You helped the waitress win a free meal, both of you, by ordering your pie that night. She met her goal, and so did you. You’re real-life friends now. The Pie, it brought you together.