I Would Like to Be Pied
I sometimes venture into one of the coffee shops in town. Of course as well as coffee they sell a variety of cakes such as carrot cake, chocolate cake, lemon meringue pie and custard tarts. When I order a coffee I sometimes take a custard tart but, rather than ask for a custard tart, I will rather naughtily ask one of the attractive servers for a custard pie to see their reaction.
I imagine a scenario where I arrive at the coffee shop just shortly before closing time. As I enter the place is almost empty apart from a lady with her daughter at the back of the café and the two attractive serving girls. One is blonde and the other is brunette. I choose a table and put down my bag and take off my coat as I’m quite warm. I’m also wearing my roll neck sweater which is tucked into my jeans. My jeans have a nice black leather belt which, rather sadly, I’m very proud of. I approach the counter slowly and it’s the blonde that serves me. The brunette has disappeared into the kitchen to the right of the counter. I can hear her shifting cups and plates around. Perhaps she’s loading a dishwasher. The blonde lady looks at me and says “What can I get you?”
“A double espresso please”
She goes away to prepare the machine. I admire the black T-shirt she’s wearing with the cafes logo written on it. She comes back.
“Anything else.” I then start to look at the cakes through the counter’s glass pretending that I am indecisive. This is just a pretence, however, as I have already chosen. There are some nice tarts and pies on the bottom shelf. I stare at the giant lemon meringue pie that is untouched and then notice there are three custard tarts left. I work my eyes back to her. She is looking rather annoyed. Perhaps because they’re about to close and that I have the audacity to order some food as well as a coffee. I start to get nervous but I have to do it.
“A custard pie please.” I reply. She reaches down to grab one of the custard tarts which are in little tin foils but then looks at me whilst she is reaching the bottom shelf and says “You do mean a custard tart don’t you?”
“Err… yes sorry” I go crimson with embarrassment. Just then the brunette appears out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel. Looking at her colleague she adds “Isn’t a custard pie what you throw at people” she then looks at me laughing. “Yes” the blonde replies. The blonde, who was about to grab one of the tarts, then stands up without taking anything. She puts her hands on her hips and continues “So is it a custard pie or a custard tart you want then?” They are both laughing. The blonde is no longer looking annoyed which I find reassuring. I know I must be really red and I’m shaking a little with the excitement. I answer “Do you have any custard pies?” They both laugh in unison. It is the brunette who replies with “No but we could use one of the tarts.” I laugh. The blonde lady once again now bends down to pick up one of the tarts and places it on a tray. As she goes to get the coffee that has been prepared she says to her colleague “Have you ever wanted to custard pie someone”
“Well yes of course…” the brunette replies and adds “and you”.
“Well I guess so… it depends who” She looks at me and laughs and adds “Don’t worry we wouldn’t do that to you!” I laugh “That’ll be three pounds and thirty pence” she says. I pay the money and look at her and say “Anyway it would be a waste wouldn’t it… to thrown the pies at someone?”
“No not really” The blonde replied and then the brunette lady interjected “anyway everything has to be thrown away”
“Yeah that’s right” the blonde interrupted.
“Oh” I said picking up my tray. Both were laughing and looking at me. The brunette then said “Do you want to be pied?” She was looking a bit guilty and not really sure if she should ask such a question to a customer.
“Well actually why not?”
“Really” the brunette replied rather surprised.
“Yes go on.” I replied once again. The blonde lady now had wide open eyes as if in shock. She has beautiful blue eyes. They looked at each other and the brunette whispered something in the others ear which I obviously wasn’t able to hear. The blonde lady, who appeared to be in charge then looked at me “Why not go and sit down? We’ll just finish cleaning here.” I was shaking with anticipation. I made my way back to my table and sat down. Whilst sipping on my coffee the lady with her daughter got up and left. They had obviously heard some of the conversation since they both laughed when they passed me.
As I drunk my coffee I saw both ladies working away. They were both very pretty. Both had their hair tied back. The blonde had a pony tail. Her T-shirt was tucked into a pair of blue jeans. The T-shirts looked so nice on these ladies. Just above the apron I noticed she was wearing a brown leather belt. She laughed nervously when she saw me looking at her. The brunette had a hair clip and had made a kind of bun with her hair. She had piercing dark eyes. As well as her T-shirt she had a pair of black jeans which, like the T-shirt, fitted her perfectly. I noticed them tidy away the cakes and then realised that nothing was likely to come out of this. I was slightly disappointed but the conversation I had had with them, at least, was quite exciting..
I’d just finished the custard tart when the brunette came to clear my table. I provoked the situation a bit by saying “I’m afraid I’ve eaten it so…”
“Yes but we still have the two which are left over.” The blonde then came out of the kitchen and showed me them from over the counter, one in each hand. “Here see!”
“Are you going to then?” I asked. They knew what I meant.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” said the brunette still loading my stuff onto a tray. She has a confused look on her face.
“No go ahead” She walked back with the tray and said something to her blonde colleague. After a minute or so the blonde went up to the door and put the closed sign to make sure no one walked in. “Follow me” she said as she passed me. She took me into their small kitchen. The blonde now had her phone out and said once again “Are you sure this is okay?”
“Please do it… anyway the tarts are only small” I replied and added “they won’t make much mess.” The brunette took one of the tarts and approached me laughing. “Do you mind if I film this” the blonde asked “I won’t post it anywhere” she added
“I don’t mind as long as you send the movie to me.”
“Yes of course” The brunette now positioned herself with the little custard tart in her right hand. She was laughing almost uncontrollably. “I can’t do this”
“Please go on” I pleaded nervously.
“I can’t.”
“Do it” I demanded
“Are you filming?” The brunette asked the blonde. I stood with my hands firmly on my hips and tried to remain calm. She had had her left hand on her hip but she then used that hand to aim as she moved the right hand back preparing to thrust. She then stopped. I can’t do this.
“Oh come here” the blonde said rather annoyed. “Take the phone and give me the custard pie.” Yes she now said custard pie rather than custard tart. The brunette was now holding the phone and now taking it rather more seriously. The blonde now got ready to aim, tart in right hand, and, almost without hesitation, planted it right in my face. At first I could hear the gasping of shock from both of them but then I heard them both giggling since the small tin foil had dropped to the floor but the pastry and custard filling had stuck in place. In fact despite the small size of the tart she had planted it hard enough to cover my eyes, nose mouth and most of my chin. I stood there and waited for the tart to drop off. After a few seconds, rather disappointingly it dropped off pretty much as one piece leaving only a few bits. I could now see however that the brunette really wanted to have a go “Could we do one more? Please?”
“Please do” I replied.
She gave the phone to the blonde who was still giggling. The brunette though was not giggling and was taking this deadly serious. When the blonde had got comfortable with the phone the brunette shoved the pie reasonably hard into my face. Rather differently to the blonde she twisted it around a bit and let go. This time the tin foil stayed and only a small piece of pastry dropped onto the floor. The coverage had been much better this second time. Again I heard the gasps of shock. After about ten seconds I removed the foil and cleared away some of the pie from my eyes. I then see that the blonde is holding the huge lemon meringue pie. “Don’t worry” she says “I think this would make too much mess. Just a joke!”
“Stay there” I say
Whilst she is still holding it I approach her. She is looking nervous but she has no need to look nervous
“If you’re not going to put that in my face then…” I then prepare myself and bend over plunging my already cream laden face into the really deep meringue. I once again heard them gasping. After about five seconds I took my face out of the pie. I was now in a serious mess. A lot had gone in my hair. Both helped me to clear up and we all agreed that this had been great fun.
Sadly this is just a dream but maybe one day.
I imagine a scenario where I arrive at the coffee shop just shortly before closing time. As I enter the place is almost empty apart from a lady with her daughter at the back of the café and the two attractive serving girls. One is blonde and the other is brunette. I choose a table and put down my bag and take off my coat as I’m quite warm. I’m also wearing my roll neck sweater which is tucked into my jeans. My jeans have a nice black leather belt which, rather sadly, I’m very proud of. I approach the counter slowly and it’s the blonde that serves me. The brunette has disappeared into the kitchen to the right of the counter. I can hear her shifting cups and plates around. Perhaps she’s loading a dishwasher. The blonde lady looks at me and says “What can I get you?”
“A double espresso please”
She goes away to prepare the machine. I admire the black T-shirt she’s wearing with the cafes logo written on it. She comes back.
“Anything else.” I then start to look at the cakes through the counter’s glass pretending that I am indecisive. This is just a pretence, however, as I have already chosen. There are some nice tarts and pies on the bottom shelf. I stare at the giant lemon meringue pie that is untouched and then notice there are three custard tarts left. I work my eyes back to her. She is looking rather annoyed. Perhaps because they’re about to close and that I have the audacity to order some food as well as a coffee. I start to get nervous but I have to do it.
“A custard pie please.” I reply. She reaches down to grab one of the custard tarts which are in little tin foils but then looks at me whilst she is reaching the bottom shelf and says “You do mean a custard tart don’t you?”
“Err… yes sorry” I go crimson with embarrassment. Just then the brunette appears out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel. Looking at her colleague she adds “Isn’t a custard pie what you throw at people” she then looks at me laughing. “Yes” the blonde replies. The blonde, who was about to grab one of the tarts, then stands up without taking anything. She puts her hands on her hips and continues “So is it a custard pie or a custard tart you want then?” They are both laughing. The blonde is no longer looking annoyed which I find reassuring. I know I must be really red and I’m shaking a little with the excitement. I answer “Do you have any custard pies?” They both laugh in unison. It is the brunette who replies with “No but we could use one of the tarts.” I laugh. The blonde lady once again now bends down to pick up one of the tarts and places it on a tray. As she goes to get the coffee that has been prepared she says to her colleague “Have you ever wanted to custard pie someone”
“Well yes of course…” the brunette replies and adds “and you”.
“Well I guess so… it depends who” She looks at me and laughs and adds “Don’t worry we wouldn’t do that to you!” I laugh “That’ll be three pounds and thirty pence” she says. I pay the money and look at her and say “Anyway it would be a waste wouldn’t it… to thrown the pies at someone?”
“No not really” The blonde replied and then the brunette lady interjected “anyway everything has to be thrown away”
“Yeah that’s right” the blonde interrupted.
“Oh” I said picking up my tray. Both were laughing and looking at me. The brunette then said “Do you want to be pied?” She was looking a bit guilty and not really sure if she should ask such a question to a customer.
“Well actually why not?”
“Really” the brunette replied rather surprised.
“Yes go on.” I replied once again. The blonde lady now had wide open eyes as if in shock. She has beautiful blue eyes. They looked at each other and the brunette whispered something in the others ear which I obviously wasn’t able to hear. The blonde lady, who appeared to be in charge then looked at me “Why not go and sit down? We’ll just finish cleaning here.” I was shaking with anticipation. I made my way back to my table and sat down. Whilst sipping on my coffee the lady with her daughter got up and left. They had obviously heard some of the conversation since they both laughed when they passed me.
As I drunk my coffee I saw both ladies working away. They were both very pretty. Both had their hair tied back. The blonde had a pony tail. Her T-shirt was tucked into a pair of blue jeans. The T-shirts looked so nice on these ladies. Just above the apron I noticed she was wearing a brown leather belt. She laughed nervously when she saw me looking at her. The brunette had a hair clip and had made a kind of bun with her hair. She had piercing dark eyes. As well as her T-shirt she had a pair of black jeans which, like the T-shirt, fitted her perfectly. I noticed them tidy away the cakes and then realised that nothing was likely to come out of this. I was slightly disappointed but the conversation I had had with them, at least, was quite exciting..
I’d just finished the custard tart when the brunette came to clear my table. I provoked the situation a bit by saying “I’m afraid I’ve eaten it so…”
“Yes but we still have the two which are left over.” The blonde then came out of the kitchen and showed me them from over the counter, one in each hand. “Here see!”
“Are you going to then?” I asked. They knew what I meant.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” said the brunette still loading my stuff onto a tray. She has a confused look on her face.
“No go ahead” She walked back with the tray and said something to her blonde colleague. After a minute or so the blonde went up to the door and put the closed sign to make sure no one walked in. “Follow me” she said as she passed me. She took me into their small kitchen. The blonde now had her phone out and said once again “Are you sure this is okay?”
“Please do it… anyway the tarts are only small” I replied and added “they won’t make much mess.” The brunette took one of the tarts and approached me laughing. “Do you mind if I film this” the blonde asked “I won’t post it anywhere” she added
“I don’t mind as long as you send the movie to me.”
“Yes of course” The brunette now positioned herself with the little custard tart in her right hand. She was laughing almost uncontrollably. “I can’t do this”
“Please go on” I pleaded nervously.
“I can’t.”
“Do it” I demanded
“Are you filming?” The brunette asked the blonde. I stood with my hands firmly on my hips and tried to remain calm. She had had her left hand on her hip but she then used that hand to aim as she moved the right hand back preparing to thrust. She then stopped. I can’t do this.
“Oh come here” the blonde said rather annoyed. “Take the phone and give me the custard pie.” Yes she now said custard pie rather than custard tart. The brunette was now holding the phone and now taking it rather more seriously. The blonde now got ready to aim, tart in right hand, and, almost without hesitation, planted it right in my face. At first I could hear the gasping of shock from both of them but then I heard them both giggling since the small tin foil had dropped to the floor but the pastry and custard filling had stuck in place. In fact despite the small size of the tart she had planted it hard enough to cover my eyes, nose mouth and most of my chin. I stood there and waited for the tart to drop off. After a few seconds, rather disappointingly it dropped off pretty much as one piece leaving only a few bits. I could now see however that the brunette really wanted to have a go “Could we do one more? Please?”
“Please do” I replied.
She gave the phone to the blonde who was still giggling. The brunette though was not giggling and was taking this deadly serious. When the blonde had got comfortable with the phone the brunette shoved the pie reasonably hard into my face. Rather differently to the blonde she twisted it around a bit and let go. This time the tin foil stayed and only a small piece of pastry dropped onto the floor. The coverage had been much better this second time. Again I heard the gasps of shock. After about ten seconds I removed the foil and cleared away some of the pie from my eyes. I then see that the blonde is holding the huge lemon meringue pie. “Don’t worry” she says “I think this would make too much mess. Just a joke!”
“Stay there” I say
Whilst she is still holding it I approach her. She is looking nervous but she has no need to look nervous
“If you’re not going to put that in my face then…” I then prepare myself and bend over plunging my already cream laden face into the really deep meringue. I once again heard them gasping. After about five seconds I took my face out of the pie. I was now in a serious mess. A lot had gone in my hair. Both helped me to clear up and we all agreed that this had been great fun.
Sadly this is just a dream but maybe one day.
51-55, M
