Do you remember the fellow who wanted to throw a pie in my face? He hasn't completely disappeared. We exchanged a few emails over the last week while he's been out of town. Thursday night, we had a lengthy IM session all about pie throwing. (He started it!)
Jamy: Hey. What are you doing here?
Rower: I am still in [west coast town] and have late dinner reservations.
Jamy: Since you sent me email I thought you were back in DC.
Rower: I couldn't resist the idea of discussing a pie fight.
Jamy: Who could?
Rower: I dunno, ms. sarcastic.
Jamy: You never told me what your favorite kind of pie is. I need to know.
Rower: In my face? Hmmm. Some sort of cream pie. Perhaps chocolate or custard cream pie. How about you?
Jamy: Apple pie.
Rower: In your face? That would hurt.
Jamy: No, in my face, I think lemon meringue. An apple pie in the face is a terrible idea.
Rower: So 6 lemon meringue pies for you?
Jamy: Yes. Perhaps you could bring some back from your trip.
Rower: So what is the attire for our pie fight?
Jamy: Come as you are!
Rower: Nah, dressed up would be better.
Jamy: How formal? I gave away my old bridesmaid dress. I should have kept it!
Rower: No evening gowns for you?
Jamy: No, sadly.
Rower: Business suits?
Jamy: You are not getting pie on my suit!
Rower: Yes I am.
Jamy: Do you have a tux?
Rower: Do I own one? Nope. I should get one though.
Jamy: I should say so.
Rower: I'd only wear a tux if you were in formalwear.
Jamy: I'll wear something dressy. I promise.
Rower: No suit?
Jamy: My suits are pants...I think I should wear a skirt, don't you?
Rower: Yes, I think so.
Jamy: Ok, so I have a just below the knee straight black skirt...and a black sequin top. That's pretty dressy and sparkly.
Rower: Nothing more businessy?
Jamy: You are stuck on the business suit! Ok, I'll wear my black suit jacket. It goes with the skirt.
Jamy: And a nice white shirt.
Rower: Collar up?
Jamy: No, tacky!
Rower: Ha ha. Good. Lemon meringue pie will look good on it.
Jamy: I still don't know what you're wearing!
Rower: You tell me.
Jamy: If you don't have a tux, I don't know. Nothing waterproof. You have to get just as dirty as I do.
Rower: Black pants and a nice shirt?
Jamy: Slacks. Yes. And a tie! You have to wear a tie.
Rower: Black pants and a nice shirt? How about black pants, a grey shirt, and a shiny matching grey tie? Will you wear heels?
Jamy: I don't have any pointy heels, but I have these nice red wedgies...would that do? I suppose I'll need to wear heels around you, mr. tall.
Rower: Yep. So we're tossing pies at your place?
Jamy: You're killing me. Sure, why not? If you come over with some pie, I'm game. I should get some plastic sheeting for the furniture...
Rower: Though I don't think we should toss them, more like smoosh them.
Jamy: Ha ha ha! Yes!
Rower: You agree?
Jamy: Smooshing is the way to go. Can you imagine? You show up. Ding-dong. I come to the door...
Rower: I can see you sitting bookishly on a chair, while I smoosh away.
Jamy: In my suit...and smoosh. Can I take off my glasses first?
Rower: Of course. I can tell you like this idea. How far do I have to travel to get to you?
Jamy: I'm in DC.
Rower: Okay...where in DC?
Jamy: [Intersection given.]
Rower: Ah, Capitol Hill.
Jamy: Just a few blocks from Union Station. Do you need the exact address so you can surprise me? Where do you live?
Rower: Dupont Circle.
Jamy: So, it's not far. You can walk from union station with your six pies. If the drug dealers bother you, just share some pie.
Rower: Am I supposed to smoosh one just as you open the door, or should I allow you to settle in?
Jamy: I wouldn't presume to tell you when to start smooshing. Surprise me.
Rower: Hey, I thought I'd ask! Hmm.
Jamy: I think you like the idea of my sitting in a chair.
Rower: Yeah, I do.
Jamy: What if I sat on the steps outside my building? Reading a book and you just walk up and smoosh me.
Rower: The other residents in your building might take issue with that. Why, how did you want to get me?
Jamy: There are only four units in this building, so you're ok. How do I want to get you? By surprise!
Rower: I don't think I'll be surprised.
Jamy: Like...you'll be coming around a corner and bam. Pie. Sure, you know there is a pie in your future, but not exactly when. Actually, are you sure you wouldn't be surprised if this happened?
Rower: Well, I'd be coming to your house. so presumably there. Why?
Jamy: You are actually planning to come to my house with a pie?
Rower: Isn't that what we've been talking about?
Jamy: Yes, but I thought we were joking. Am I spoiling it?
Rower: You just did.
Jamy: I suck.
Jamy: Well, you would get your pie when you were here, but you won't know EXACTLY when. And you will be surprised.
Rower: So I am not showing up with pies?
Jamy: Just tell me when so I can be home.
Rower: ...and dressed.
Jamy: Yes, I want to be dressed appropriately. Maybe you should take a cab.
Rower: So now we ARE doing this?
Jamy: Oh yes, we're doing it. I'm all in. I may not be able to stop laughing, but I suppose that is the point. Shouldn't laugh about serious pie business.
Rower: Yes, nothing like humiliation with desserts to dry up the laughter.
Jamy: No laughing happening RIGHT NOW. When are you coming back?
Jamy: What about Sunday night? I'll go grocery shopping after my softball game. Maybe I can pick up you-know-what.
Rower: Sunday might work.
Jamy: Monday might be better. I'm usually pretty tired after softball. Monday, the suit would make more sense. I could wear it to work.
Rower: Hmm, I can see that. Tough to know how busy I'll be after I am back in the office.
Jamy: How can you be too busy for pie? I am busy too, but for pie, I would change my plans. Sun is good, but then I don't want to wear the suit.
Rower: So many conflicts! You might have to just make due on Sunday.
Jamy: That is the story of my life. What about just the skirt and no jacket? Can you live with that?
Jamy: So demanding! I can be ready by 7.
Rower: We'll confirm when I return. Perhaps you should sit on my lap when you deliver my pie.
Jamy: I like it. It wouldn't be so much a surprise then...maybe pie number 2?
Rower: Naybe a better impact, then.
Jamy: Are you sure you don't want to sit on my lap? When I'm in my chair? Heh.
Rower: Nah, I'd hurt you.
Jamy: I'm tough. (That's what the coach used to tell me.)
Rower: I bet. I gotta run.
As unbelievable as that entire exchange was, we did it all over again on Saturday afternoon. He sent a message late on Friday, which I missed, then found me online on Saturday. After the exchange of a few pleasantries, we began the pie-based conversation. This time he said he was going to make the pies and lure me to his apartment after work one day next week. Um, sure, that's going to happen. I mean, is it going to happen? I'd rather go to his house--I don't want all that mess at my place. He said he'd put down newspapers. It is one of the oddest continuing conversations I've ever had.
He sent me this picture and said, "So it's quite possible you'll closely resemble the girl in the pic. Think you can handle being that messy?"
I know we're flirting. I'm sure there is something sexual about it but no references to sex were ever made. Who goes to someone's house to throw around pies? If he gives me his address, who knows what I'll do.
Grateful for: pie-based flirting.