Paul Richardson: I know you

I have some preferences on pie. My favorite is probably pecan pie, but coconut cream, or should I say coconut meringue, runs a close second and on some days is my go-to pie. 

Stories about my encounters with other people abound when it comes to pie. There is a little café on the east side of US 71, south of Hatfield, Arkansas, that I had visited for the first time on or about the fall of ’98. It was a full year later the next time I set foot in the establishment, but when I did, I was immediately greeted with, “I know you! You’re the guy that ate an entire coconut cream pie the last time you were here.” 

While this was correct, it sounds much worse than it was. I was much thinner and more active then, and the pie was a mere nine-inch pie, one that I determined was of a single serving size. It was wonderful and a delightful way to finish off a meal of chicken fried steak. 

So, the word got out among the people that I rode with that I liked pie. I liked pie and coconut meringue seemed to have a distinct advantage over other selections. It was then that everyone decided to let the games begin. 

Sometime later, we were at a state gathering where we were all camped out in the El Dorado Springs area. Wayne and Vicki Kennedy were riding with us and were in the tent immediately next to ours. It turned out that the café that we were patronizing had completed all of the baking for the week and the supply of pie was limited to what was on hand. 

Finding this out I pre-paid for several pieces to be held in the back of the kitchen and produced upon request and as the need arose. The next day, following an invigorating and extended tour of the area, we returned to the café. 

While placing my order, I requested that a piece of the pie be delivered along with my meal. When the meal arrived, the pie was promptly set in front of me. The good wife, partially to get my dander up, but also to be certain that she enjoyed the first fruits of this bounty, reached over, and got her a big bite. 

Upon placing it in her mouth, her countenance changed, and she began searching for a napkin. Finding a napkin, the bite was jettisoned from her mouth. When she regained her control and could function, she said, “What is wrong with that pie?” 

Wayne and Vicki being the pranksters that they were, had purchased an additional piece of pie and then salted the top of the meringue with a dubious amount of the seasoning. A prank that was directed at me and my indulgence, had redirected itself and landed square on the “King’s food taster." 

Fortunately, I had plenty of good pie in reserve and was provided with one of the safe pieces. There were more pranks and gags, literally some would gag even you, to come. But not only should you want to know what you are dealing with, but who you are dealing with. 

After being introduced numerous times and over a period of several years, I found a solution for the failing memory of one particular gentleman. His apology for not remembering me was followed by me grabbing him by both cheeks and planting a big kiss directly on his lips. I followed this with a comment about he would never forget me again. He did not, from that day forward he would greet me with, “I know you!