My Neighbour Errol- Pie

You know…despite what this blog might suggest, I have always considered my pal Errol a decent sort of person.

Yes, he has a love of teasing and pushing buttons. But that has always been in good fun and I have never, ever thought of him as an actual jerk.

Until last week. You see, Errol has deeply and maliciously wounded me.

MALICOUISLY

MALICOUISLY

I have spoken of Errol’s workplace in the past and how it’s the office equivalent to Disneyland. This still remains very much true. One of the perks of working at Disneyland is that every Friday, without fail, there are snacks provided.

Pictured above: Errol and snacks.

Pictured above: Errol and snacks.

On more than one occasion Errol has lamented about the injustice of getting pizza instead of bagels while I hoped that maybe, just maybe, you can get some leftover juice from a client meeting. Again though, I never thought him cruel in his work descriptions.

But then last week, this was his work snack.

Seriously, this was the picture he sent.

Seriously, this was the picture he sent.

Pie…a lot of pie…

Errol…does not really eat pie…that is the first injustice of this tale.

He does however know of MY feelings on pie. In that I consider it one of the greatest and most important things in the world.

Looooook at all of the glory!

Looooook at all of the glory!

Does he take a piece anyway, perhaps thinking it might be fun to share with his friends? No.

Does he think to save me a piece from amongst the multitude of leftovers? No.

Instead, he waits until we are in chat again to announce, dripping with glee, “I have a story which will upset Manpans”. Then he told his tale.

I am assuming this is what his face looked like.

I am assuming this is what his face looked like.

 

I railed at the injustice of it all. I ranted and raved. I called him several names which shall not be repeatable in this blog. And in response he laughed in my face.

Smugly

Smugly

Some of you might say I should react less to his button pushing. Then he might leave me alone and in blissful ignorance. To you I say: you just do not understand the line that has been crossed this time.

I am no longer angry, or at least not as angry and hurt as the day this atrocity was committed. Instead, I mourn the lonely leftover pie, more than likely sitting there uneaten and cold surrounded by health conscious individuals and one jerk who simply won’t eat it.

And yet who won’t keep quiet about egg on rice

And yet who won’t keep quiet about egg on rice

It is an unfair world. Errol is a jerk. I know that now. I will not seek revenge though. I have seen far too many movies to know that it will not heal the deep wound he has inflicted on me. I shall move on from this. I am strong.

…although if anyone has any ideas, I am open to them…

Perhaps THIS pie will take revenge! It’s AWESOME!

Perhaps THIS pie will take revenge! It’s AWESOME!

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Posted on October 1, 2014, in My Neighbour Errol and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. One place I’d worked had pie day one Friday a month to celebrate those who had birthdays that month. Everyone got to order a pie of their choice. The best Fridays were of course Pay Day Pie Days.

  2. And yes, sadly, I most often skipped the pies too. I find pies overrated. Sad but true.

  3. Develop your culinary skills to the point where you can produce a pie with Totoro as the lid- then take a picture, eat it yourself, and only tell Errol about it afterwards (i.e. not before the entire pie is gone)

    As regards pies, I tend to be mostly a savoury pie person (and I have no skill worth speaking of with pastry, so I tend to resort buying in pre-made pies)

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