Not a taste of berry, no hint of apple, never a single bite of lemon meringue, not even a smidge of pumpkin. Never a need for an "a la mode." Even cobblers were too close to "pie" - so no dice. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure about hair pie, but let's not split hairs (no pun intended) - that's more of a colloquialism than an actual cooked fruit dessert (sexual food fetishes aside).
This anti-pie stance wasn't because she had had some horrible, unfortunate pie-related accident in her past or anything. She simply refused to eat pie.
Of course, we were absolutely fascinated by this, albeit in an extremely judgmental and, let's be honest: personally offended manner. I mean, who the hell doesn't like a good piece of pie? It's friggin' pie for god's sake! How could something so intrinsically beautiful and delicious cause someone to go on a personal crusade never to let single crumb pass their lips?
It's nearly beyond belief bizarre.
I can't remember how we discovered this, although once we did it was all we could ever talk about with Pie Girl. Had her mom ever made pie growing up? Yes. She just wouldn't try it? No - it didn't look good. Did she eat other desserts? Yes. Was there any other dessert that she wouldn't eat? No, she loved desserts. Was she opposed to cooked fruit? No. Would she eat ice cream pie? Yes - that wasn't pie; it was ice cream.
This was nonsensical; if it were true, then how could anything else about her be legitimate? How could we take Pie Girl seriously as a human being? This girl was an absolute freakshow! The whole thing threw the entire universe out of whack...
We all had to do something about it: we could not go on unless we were able to get Pie Girl to try a bite of pie. This simply wasn't natural. Millions of years of evolution did not lead us to develop an organism that was opposed to pie. It wasn't right.
Pie Girl, obviously, was not happy to discover that we had made it our quest to get her to try a piece of pie. It wasn't a joke to her. But it wasn't a joke to us either. This was serious business. We wouldn't be able to continue on with our lives unless she tried pie.
At first Pie Girl adamantly refused to try any pie whatsoever. "Why? Why is it so important that I try pie? Why can't you just let it go? I'm not going to."
"Why is it so important to you that you won't even try a single bite?" we responded. "What is it about pie that causes you so much disdain that you won't so much as even try it?"
"I. Just. Don't. Want. To."
Unacceptable.
Of course, a few weeks later, the concerted effort to get Pie Girl to try a bite of pie - any pie - did finally wear her down. One evening a group of us were at dinner and, spiritually defeated, she agreed to do it. "Do you have a preference?" we asked.
"No - whatever you choose," she tiredly answered.
We were elated. This was it! Finally! The end of this inexplicable nightmare was near!
We selected a fresh piece of berry pie and waited in baited anticipation for the waitress to bring it. This was going to be like watching your first born child start their first day of school: a definitive first step toward open-mindedness and an expanded worldview. We were going to make a difference.
The pie came and the waitress set it down in front of Pie Girl. Eight people watched with hearts fluttering as she took a deep breath, cut the tip of the pie off with her fork, and raised it to her lips. She gave one last glance around the table - in hatred or gratitude, we couldn't quite tell - then popped in into her mouth.
She chewed once. Twice. Three times slowly, then swallowed. The restaurant suddenly get very quiet; all of the patrons universally connected in watching Pie Girl admit she was wrong in every facet of her belief system. Finally she put her fork down and pushed her plate forward.
"I don't like it," she said.
"You don't like the berries?" someone asked...
"No," she responded angrily, looking him right in the eye, "I don't like pie."
Look, I realize that by sharing this story with you I am putting into question every foundation you may have for understanding, categorizing and coping with this world. But there is a point in here. You, like I have learned to do, have to let it go. You can't control Pie Girl; not Pie Girl herself, and not the theoretical "Pie Girls" you may encounter in other facets of your life. Don't fight Pie Girl. Don't challenge Pie Girl. Don't try to make sense of Pie Girl. Just let Pie Girl flow over and through you like the wind.
You see, I was reminded of Pie Girl last night while watching Survivor. Here we have - perhaps without question - the greatest Survivor of all time: Russell. He's taken us from outwardly hating him with every fiber of our being to basking in his every sneer, his every scheme, his every thick patch of unkempt back hair. But we also see the writing on the wall...
His greatness is surely fleeting. He's on everyone's radar. 18 previous seasons of Survivor have clearly shown that anyone who tries to control and/or force things will get what's coming to them - and usually sooner rather than later. We want to enjoy the show...but we know that once he's gone, we'll have to root for someone like..Brett (wait, there's a guy named Brett on the show?). This causes us angst. We're unsettled. We want to do something about it...
But as I grappled with these demons last night (well, it was either demons or my third Celebration Ale...), Pie Girl popped into my head, and I remembered how I felt when she pushed that pie plate away: defeated. Useless. Confused, depressed and hopeless. And I did not want to feel that way again. I knew I had to bask in the moment. Enjoy things as there are right here and right now. Don't worry about what may happen, or about people that I can't control. Have another Celebration Ale damnit.
So I did. And wow - what another great episode! Multiple people voted for at Tribal Council. Yet another blindside. Foa Foa 100% intact since the merge, and now with 100% of the power. Shamwow shammed and wowed by both tribes voting exactly opposite of her. Tremendous stuff. As Jeff said, "I can't wait to see what happens next."
Let Pie Girl refuse to eat pie.
In the end, it only means more pie for the rest of us.
Until next week,
Probst Beef
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