The Conversation

I was sitting at one of park benches in the town park. This bench was in a grove of trees and quite well hidden from the rest of the park. This bench was my favorite part of the park. The bench itself was in the shade so it didn't get too warm. However, enough light came through the canopy to give the grove a cozy feel. One could hear the nearby stream gurgle in the background, and it was reassuring to watch the squirrels and listen to the birds. I often came here when I felt depressed and wanted to be alone. This was one such time.

I was looking down at the ground somewhat hung over and regretting that I had allowed myself to be used again for a one-night stand when I heard a voice say, "Would you like to talk?" At first I was startled by the strangeness of the question. A half a split second later I was startled to find out someone else was there in the grove. However, what threw me for the biggest loop was when I looked up a saw this man covered in pie, so much so that he no recognizable features. When he saw my discomfiture, he added, "I apologize for startling you, but I didn't see any way to avoid doing so."

"You could have walked on by without disturbing me."

"I could have, but I would not have been happy with myself had I done so. I can still go, if you wish."

"Yes." As he turned to leave, I realized that I did want to talk to someone and didn't want him to go. "No, wait." He turned back and faced me. "Why do you say that you wouldn't have been happy with yourself had you not disturbed me?" I think that I already knew the answer to this, but I was stalling. I didn't know why, but I was. I think he knew that I was stalling, but he answered me anyway.

"Because that would have meant that I had ignored for no good reason someone who had needed, and, if I don't miss my guess, still needs a sympathetic ear." I was beginning to get over the shock, but I still had to ask, "Why are you covered in pie?"

He chuckled a bit. "Oh, is it noticeable?" He smiled at his witticism, then added, "The simple reason is that I am walking home from a pie fight."

"Did you get pied before you knew what was happening?"

He chuckled again. "No. I knew it was going to happen before it began. In fact, I think that I threw the first pie."

"Isn't that a childish thing to do?"

"No. It was a child-like thing to do. It would have been childish if I did it on impulse without regard to the consequences. I knew the consequences of my partaking in the pie fight and accepted them."

"Do you mean that you participated in the pie fight knowing that you'd have to walk home covered in pie???"

"Yes"

"Aren't you worried about what people might think?"

"No. Why should I be? If I'm seen by someone who knows me well, then he or she would be truly happy for me to see me in this state, as he or she would know that I love a good pie fight. If I'm seen by someone who doesn't know me well, then his or her opinion isn't important for the simple reason that ii is an opinion based on incomplete knowledge. If that person does get to know me in the future, then the opinion he or she had at the time is very likely to change."

I had to silently admit that my opinion of the "pie man" had changed during the short time of our conversation. I tried to start talking about what was bothering me, but I found that I couldn't.

"You're still too uncomfortable to talk to a man covered in pie." I nodded. "Then may I suggest that you follow me to my place so that I can get cleaned up."

"So that you can use me and throw me away like all of the other men in my life. No ,,," I was interrupted at this point, for which I was grateful. I had regretted saying what I did as soon as I said it.

"So that's what this is about. You had a one-night stand last night, and you're regretting it." He looked directly at me. "In fact, one-night stands have become a lifestyle, and you hate yourself for it becoming so." All I could do was to put my head down and nod weakly. He thought for a moment. "Let me say this. If I were going to try to take advantage of you, I would have done so when you weren't aware of my presence so that I might have had a 1% chance of success rather than make you aware of my presence when I would no chance of success whatsoever."

I was so flabbergasted by what the "pie man" had just said that I was temporarily completely distracted from crying. "What are you talking about? You're a big, strong man."
"Big, yes. Strong, nah. I'm an old man. I lost whatever muscle I had in my youth years ago, and, in all honesty, I didn't have many muscles back then." A smile crept over my face, then a single giggle, then another, and then I heard myself laughing. I was still feeling sad, but I knew that the "pie man" would make me feel better. It was a short laugh, and when it was done, he said. "Oh, by the way, apology accepted."

"Do you mind waiting for me to actually apologize before accepting it" I said in mock indignation.

He laughed. It was a big boisterous joyful laugh. "My apologies"

"Apology accepted, and I'm sorry for what I said."

"My I accept your apology now?"

"Please do." I shook my head with a smile at how silly the conversation had become,

"Apology accepted." I swear that, despite all of the pie, I could see a twinkle in his eye as he said it.

I stood up. "Lead on, MacPie."

It was a short walk to his house. When we got there, he turned on a faucet and went to the hose. When he picked up the hose, I offered to hose him down. He handed me the hose. As the pie mixed with the water and became fertilizer for the grass, an old man emerged from under the mess. He had longish grey hair and a full grey beard reminiscent of the late 60's and early 70's. He was somewhat overweight, and was wearing blue jeans, a collared blue and white plaid t-shirt, and rather beat up New Balance athletic shoes. Of course, he was now also soaking wet.

He unlocked and opened the front door and asked me to take a seat. I sat down on the sofa next to the front that sat under the front window. He took off his shoes and socks, wiped his feet, and hurried through the living room and down the hall. I heard a door close, and then I heard the shower running. I decided to learn what I could by looking at the surroundings.

The first thing that caught my eye was the sheer number of books. The near wall from the front door had 5 6-foot bookcases. All of the bookcases were full, and some of the shelves had two rows of books rather than one. The far wall had two more bookcases, also completely full. The shelves that had magazines rather than books were doubled up as well. There was a old spinet piano next on the far wall next to the bookcases. There was an open book of sheet music on the piano's music stand. There were two metallic sculptures on the wall; one was of sea birds; the other was of a hot air balloon carrying a gondola.

My host came out freshly dressed and carrying his wet clothes in a towel. As he walked by, he said, "Please give me a second." I heard a door open. A minute later, I thought I could hear a washing machine. I heard a door close, and then he came back into view. "May I get you a beverage? I have Coke Zero, Caffeine-Free Coke Zero, instant coffee, tea, and water."

"Do you have a beer?"

"No. Sorry, but I don't drink."

"Water, then, with ice. May I use your bathroom?"

"Down the hall to the left"

As I walked to the bathroom, I was mesmerized by the artwork that covered the walls. "Is this your artwork?"

"No. My wife is the artist. At the moment, she's camping in some isolated spot to get inspiration."

"Is she planning to sell her art?"

"Someday."

After using the bathroom, I walked back to the living room. I noticed that the far end of the dining area had been converted into a man cave. An eighth bookcase marked the boundary of the man cave. My host handed me my water and waited for me to sit. Before I did, I simply had to ask, "How many bookcases do you have?"

He laughed and said, "We have 13 tall bookcases, a 4-foot wide by 2-foot tall mountable bookcase, a paperback book rack, a DVD/video tape cabinet, and three, 3-foot high bookcases that we use to separate the family room from my wife's office. Thus, we have either 18 or 19 bookcases, depending on whether you count the DVD/video tape cabinet. By the way, what's your name?"

I stood there a bit flabbergasted that there were 18 bookcases in a house this small. Then I snapped out of it, sat down, and said, "Julia. What's yours?"

"My friends simply refer to me as 'Old Man'." He then added with a smile, "I don't know what my enemies call me, but then again I don't care, either." I rolled my eyes and shook my head at this feeble joke, which caused OM to laugh. I must admit that I was also smiling.

The time had come to tell my story. After taking a deep breath, I told OM of my childhood and how I had strict parents. I told him about my 6 boyfriends I had had during my last three years of college, mostly describing what made them sexy. I also talked about the three boyfriends I'd had in the first year-and-half after college, and how angry I'd been when I had when I had caught my last boyfriend cheating on me. I talked about how I had talked to a female co-worker and how she had suggesting clubbing and one-night stands, and then I concluded by talking about the one-night stands. OM politely and attentively listened to it all.

When I was finished, OM spoke. "I have a couple of questions that I'd like to ask you. First, do you like the girls with whom you had gone clubbing." I noticed that OM expected that I wouldn't go clubbing again. At this point, I just hoped he was right.

I had never thought about whether I liked the girls with whom I went clubbing. I thought about it, and answered, "I don't dislike them, but I can't really say that I like them, either. They are just the girls with whom I go with whom I went clubbing. I don't want to go clubbing anymore, and if I don't want to go, why should I?" OM smiled in agreement. "I never wanted to go clubbing. Why did I let them talk me into it?"

"The simple answer is that you just didn't know how or why not to be talked into it. Second, did you like your boyfriends?

I was taken aback by the question. "I was in love with every one of them."

"Perhaps, but that isn't the question. I noticed that you never talk about your boyfriends' hobbies, their tastes in food, whether they like sports, what type of music did they like, etc.

I realized what OM was asking. "I can't say that I did, I don't think that I knew them well enough to like them." Then I had a revelation. "No, I don't think that I knew myself well enough to know whether I liked them; just like I didn't know that I wouldn't like clubbing, and even like how in my childhood I did what was expected of me, I am such an

"No name calling. The point of introspecting about one's past is to make better decisions in one's present, not to pass judgment on oneself."

I smiled and nodded my head in acknowledgment. "Thank you. This has really helped. I suppose now I have to get to know myself." OM nodded in agreement. "Will you help me?"

"To the extent that I can help, of course. Bear in mind, though, you are the one must be the one to discover who you are, for who you are lies with yourself."

I nodded. "May I ask for a couple of favors?"

"Of course."

"The first favor is would you allow me to watch your next pie fight?"

"It's OK with me, but I'll have to ask the others. Excuse me a moment." OM went into his man cave. I could hear him typing on this computer. After about a minute, he returned. "I've sent an email. We will have to wait for a response."

"Sceond, will you play the piano for me?" I bit my lip gently and gave him my best "pleading" look.

"Of course, and you don't need the pleading look." ('Dang', I thought to myself. 'He's not supposed to see through that.'} I gave him a mock "Hmmph" look, which lasted about a second before I started smile beamingly. The first two pieces he played intrigued me. They weren't what I expected, nor were they like anything I'd heard before. He called them, "Gothic Theme 1 and 2" and said something like, "The main harmony is based on a descending melodic minor scale with a lowered 2nd."

"I'm afraid I don't know what that means. I do like them quite a bit, though."

He smiled and said, "My bad". He then played a third original composition he called, "An Adventurous Outing". It had a very different feel about it. "This piece, and others I've written, were inspired by 'Solfeggietto' by CPE Bach."

"I don't know the piece, but I've heard of Bach."

"I'm sure you're thinking of Johann Sebastian Bach, who happened to have had 20 children. Four of his sons, including Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, were composers themselves."

"TWENTY CHILDREN!!??!?!?"

"Yes. One might say that Johann Sebastian's fecundity was his way 'Bach to the Future'." OM twinkled at his bad pun. I just groaned and shook my head, which caused OM to laugh out loud, a laugh which reminded me of Barney Rubble.

"That's bad. If I had a pie right now, I'd throw it you."

"Really? In that case, I will have to make sure you're well stocked with 'ammunition' the next time I tell bad jokes, or is that Bach jokes." I just rolled my eyes and shook my head, which caused OM to laugh again.

When he regained his composure, OM started to play something I recalled hearing before. "I've heard this before."

"Quite possibly. It's my piano arrangement of David Bowie's, "A Space Oddity. I think that the harmony I use is a bit more complex than the one he used." I promised myself that I would have to listen to the original song again.

After he finish "A Space Oddity", OM started playing something I did recognize. "Star Wars!" said I with a big grin.

"I call this, 'Variations on Obi-Wan Kenobi's theme'." I noticed that each time through, he played the same theme, but he played it differently each time. I was enthralled, and clapped when he was finished despite that he stumbled while playing it. He thanked me, and then got up and went to his computer.

He returned to the living room and said, "Good news. My friends have agreed to let you watch, but there are conditions. The next scheduled pie fight, which is in 6 weeks, is a formal affair. They wish for you to dress accordingly even though it is likely that you will get some pie splattered on your clothing. They, and I, will expect for you to take that consequence gracefully. As long as you are just watching, they, and I, will not target you, even 'accidentally'. However, should you change your mind and wish to join the pie fight, all you need to do is pick up a pie. If you do so, they, and I, will target you mercilessly. Can you accept these conditions?"

I thought for a moment, and then I said, "OK. Yes I can." I really did want to watch.

"Good. It's getting late. May I offer you a lift home?"

"It actually isn't that far. I think I'd rather walk."

"In that case, I would feel better if you allowed me to escort you home."

I was going to object, but I could see in his eyes that he was concerned for my safety. After all he done for me today, I didn't want him to go to the trouble, but I didn't want him to worry either. Besides, I did like his company. After a deep breath, I agreed.

As we walked, we passed a field that had a mud pit. I stopped, pointed to the mud pit and said to OM, "As a child, I always wanted to play in that mud pit; however, I never did because my parents would have been furious."

"Why don't you go play in it now?"

"No, that would be childish."

"Let me ask you a couple of questions: First, are you prepared to deal with muddy clothing without regret?"

I thought for a moment, then said, "Yes, I can deal with muddy clothes."

"Second, could you, when covered in mud, be seen by a stranger without regret or embarrassment?"

I thought for a moment. Then I put my head down and said, "No, I don't think so," and started to walk. After 3 steps I got angry with myself and stopped. "Dammit. I have lived by following other people's expectations and it has just made me unhappy." I took a couple of deep breaths. "I will not regret playing in the mud if someone sees me covered in mud." It felt liberating to say this. "I am going to play in the mud like a child, and I am going to deal with the consequences like an adult." I ran to the mud pit and jumped. I immediately sank to my knees as mud splashed higher up on my jeans. I fell onto my back, I rolled onto my front, then onto my back, and then onto my front again. I looked up and said, "Come join me."

"Not this time. I promise to join you next time, but this is your moment."

I was somewhat disappointed at his reply, although not surprised. "You promise?"

"I promise." OM crossed his heart as he said it.

I went back to playing in the mud. I dunked my hair in as deeply as I could. I rolled onto my front and pushed my face in as deeply as I could. I rolled onto my back and made a mud angel. Then I just frolicked and hand a wonderful time.

When I was done, I walked back to where OM was standing. He asked me if I had fun and I just smiled. We started walking, and then I had this wicked thought, which caused me to stop. When OM stopped and looked at me puzzled, I ran to the mud pit and jumped in. "It's next time!" OM laughed, clapped, and used his index finger to score a point in the air for me. I threw mud at him as he was walking over. I wanted him to get in the mud sooner. It worked. Soon we were wrestling in the mud. I discovered that OM, despite his size advantage, wasn't a very good wrestler.


THREE WEEKS LATER

I got a call from OM to meet him at the mud pit at 5:15 pm on a Wednesday evening. When I got there, I saw a man my age playing in the mud. When he started to go, I said, "No, don't go. I'm here for the same reason--to play in the mud." To prove it, I walked into the mud pit. "My name is Julia," and offered my hand. He shook my hand and told me his name was Geoffrey. We'd been talking for a few minutes when OM walked up. "OM, when did you meet Geoffrey?"

"About 10 seconds ago." I looked at Geoffrey, and he nodded in agreement.

"Are you trying to tell me that you didn't set up this meeting?"

"When did I say that? I looked at Geoffrey. He just shrugged.

"All right, Mr. Wise Guy, how could you have set this up, and I know you did, if you hadn't met before tonight?"

OM grinned ear-to-ear. "All right, I'll give. I noticed a large set of footprints when I arrived for each of our last two Thursday sessions. Because they were footprints created by an athletic shoe, I reasoned that they were made by a young man who played in the mud when walking home from work on Wednesdays." The stunned looked on Geoffrey's face told me that OM had gotten it exactly right, and the subtle gloat on OM's face told me that OM knew it. "Shall I leave, then?"

"Oh no you don't. You are going to move your smart ass over here, and Geoffrey and I are going to get you muddier than you have ever been before. Only then may you leave."

Geoffrey and I had our first date the next evening, and, by the weekend, he was the first boyfriend I had truly liked.


SIX WEEKS LATER

I was wearing my most formal dress. I had picked up OM and was now parking in front of his friend's house. I had already decided to participate in the pie fight, but I had also decided to act the innocent first. OM rang the bell. The door was answered by his friend, who was a bit older than I but much younger than OM. OM introduced me to the group. The host handed a Coke Zero to OM and asked if I wanted a beverage. "Just water, please". I looked around the place. Everything was covered in a plastic tarp, and there must have been hundreds of pies around the room. I was given a bottle of water and shown to my seat. There were a pie next to me in case I "changed my mind". Everyone started singing "Happy Birthday". When they finished, they pelted the host with pies, and then they started pelting each other. The pie fight had begun in earnest.

It took about 30 seconds for me to receive some splatter from a chocolate cream pie. At that point, I stood up. When I did that. everyone stopped to watch to see what I would do. If someone hadn't had a pie at that moment, he or she got one. I knew I was going to get it, but I was determined to get OM first. I walked over to OM and grabbed him by his tie. I pulled him over to my pie. He followed willingly. Everyone, including OM, got a big smile on their faces. When the time was right, I picked up my pie and smooshed OM in the face. Bless his heart--he made no effort to dodge. Immediately afterwards, I was struck by 6 well-aimed pies. This was followed by a pie hat from OM. After that, the free-for-all resumed.

When the pies were exhausted, and the participants completely covered in pie, the three couples started to head off to their respective "bedrooms". OM started to head for the door when I stopped him by grabbing his hand. "Please? I really want to. I promise you it will be just this once. I've talked it over with Geoffrey, and he agrees." OM looked at me, as undecided and confused as I have ever seen him. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of one minute, he smiled, squeezed my hand, and didn't let go.


SIX MONTHS LATER

Today, Geoffrey and I were married. It was a strange wedding. Not only was the ceremony and reception held in the biggest sea of mud we could find, it was the only hetero marriage I know of where both the bride and the groom had a best man.