I should've known. How could I possibly have ever thought that Jon and I could have a simple little apple pie baking contest without it blowing up into a company-wide extravaganza?
Backstory: On Friday a bunch of people from work went for drinks at Beer Bar. At said bar, somehow the topic of apple pies came up between Jon and I, and, as most things go between us, we decided to turn it into a friendly competition. His apple pie vs my apple crisp. Monday. Everyone who tries both votes. We would "blind" it by not telling anyone which was whose. No big deal, right?
This morning I came in, soaking wet from the torrential sideways raining going on outside. I should really invest in a larger/sturdier umbrella. Or maybe a human bubble. Or maybe I should just think ahead and NOT wear the same clothes to work that I actually intend to wear the whole day.
But I digress.
Lunchtime approaches and we find out that Ronnie bought a toaster oven to reheat our pies. We thought Emily was joking when she told us. Ok, so aside from the fact that it's pouring rain outside, where in the heck did she get a toaster oven in midtown?? But alright, now we've pushed the competition to a new level. Oh, and vanilla ice cream was bought as well.
This Monday lunch has no theme, no agenda, and no speaker, so as it turns out, Jon and I (or rather, our pies) are unintentionally the main attraction. Official ballots had been made and everything. There is a little smack talking, a little murmuring from the peanut gallery, and of course it's built up to the Nth degree, just because that's how we do things around here. Right before Ronnie cuts into the crisp Jon says, "I would ask you also to take the aesthetic appearance into consideration when you are voting." Ooooooooooh, ok, Jabels, game on.
Crisp is distributed. Pie is distributed. People are eating. People are thinking. People are voting. Latecomers are quickly given crisp/pie and asked to vote.
I call Darren out for backing out of the competition on Friday. He makes some snide remark in return. It feels like I'm in the middle of a Quidditch tournament in Harry Potter or something, with all the build up, all the commentary, all that is at stake. Because what else is at stake but the pride of winning?
Ok so maybe the Harry Potter thing is a stretch and I've just been reading it nonstop this past weekend...
Then it is decided that we will tally the votes by reading them OUT LOUD, ONE AT A TIME and making the tally on the white board. You have got to be kidding me! When did our friendly little competition turn into a huge ordeal?? And you want to talk about a nerve racking experience? Let's talk about how my apple crisp was down 5 to 1 or something like that right out of the gate. I mean, come on, NO ONE wants to deal with that anxiety, even in a fun little game. Because at some level, we all want to win.
Just get it over with already!
So my apple crisp rallies, with increased anticipation and commentary from the crowd. Then it is 5 to 10, my apple crisp up, with 5 votes remaining. Kate so kindly points out this fact, and the fact that one more crisp vote and the pie is finished. So what do we do? Drum roll.
But of course.
What is the next vote? PIE!
6-10, Jon is still in, 4 votes remain.
Next vote, again the tension mounts....... PIE!
7-10, still every single vote counts. 3 votes remain.
Crisp. Crisp. Crisp.
So there it is 13-7, with one additional abstaining, and one ballot with commentary, basically bashing my crisp and praising the pie. This commentator used the word "cloying" in reference to my crisp. Seriously??
Well, my friend, the numbers speak differently.
But Jon has that ballot hanging in his cubicle, just to soften the blow.