Pies. No, Really

This has been an interesting week.

My coworker, Cyclist (of the bike, and paintings stories), invited Bill and me to a 'pie' party on Thursday. We decided to bake our pies together, since Bill had never made one before. Wednesday night we did just that. It was quite fun!

Thursday brought the party. We had an impromptu pie contest—one of our pies won! The other one took third place. It was all in good fun, but Cyclist groused and complained about it half the day Friday.

He also felt the need to harass me about the fact that we won. At our afternoon break he felt the need to refer to Bill as my "boyfriend" when relating this story to our other coworker. I vehemently denied any such relationship. "Let me ask you just one thing," he said, waiting expectantly for me agreement, "did you cook those pies separately?" I tried to get out of the corner they had painted me into, but, finally, I just succumbed and took the teasing, and allowed myself to turn bright red.