By Anjali Nayak
Entering the Dingley Diner in San Bruno California, Edward had no suspicion that his life was mere moments away from changing. For the most part, it was an average Friday, Edward had just finished his 9 – 6 job as an accountant for a law firm. Like any other Friday night, Edward sat down at his usual booth next to the largest window. He was soon greeted by a glum-looking waitress, who was sporting an apron with the Dingley logo.
“So what will it be today, Edward?” She said coldly, almost as if she wasn’t aware that his self-esteem mattered.
“I guess I’ll have the baked potato again.”
“What’s wrong with you Edward?” The waitress snapped. Edward was confused and felt the sudden urge to pinch himself. Was this real? He stayed silent.
“I mean, what’s WRONG with you?” The waitress shouted hotly, “You spend every Friday night at the same diner, sitting in the same booth, eating the same baked potato.”
Edward quivered, seconds away from breaking down. He cleared his throat, and picked up the menu. His eyes immediately fell on the chicken pot pie.
“Alright then,” He said matter of factly, “I’ll be having the chicken pot pie tonight then.”
The waitress smiled sweetly.
“Good choice hon,” she said, picking up his menu and walking away, ever so politely. Almost as if nothing had even happened.
10 minutes later, a large chicken pot pie was set in front of Edward. He squirmed in his chair. Why did he even pick the chicken pot pie? It was his first time even SEEING a chicken pot pie, what if he hated it? It would be awkward for the waitress to pick up his plate and see the ENTIRE chicken pot pie still there, what if he wasn’t eating it correctly? What if he burns his tongue? A million worries rushed through his head. Edward felt miserable, sitting in his chair, staring at the chicken pot pie.
“Just. Eat it,” a voice in his head cried, “Just eat the chicken pot pie.”
Edward mustered up the courage to pick up his fork, he slowly moved the fork towards the pie and scooped a large chunk. He put the fork in his mouth and let a small piece of the piping hot chicken pot pie touch his tongue.
As he slowly chewed the chicken pot pie, all the worries that were constantly ruling his head, all the woes that had him live in a state of distress, were just… gone. He felt secure, safe, his mind finally at peace, a pot pie nirvana. To put it simply, he felt… calm.
He went for another bite of chicken pot pie, craving for that feeling once more. Then another. Then another again. Soon, he had devoured the entire dish. Looking down at the empty plate where the mighty chicken pot pie once settled, he felt a sense of satisfaction. For once in his life, he had lived in the moment and done something for himself.
That night, Edward stared at the ceiling, thinking about the day’s events. No matter how hard he tried to fall asleep, the thought of shoveling another chicken pot pie in his mouth kept him awake. Soon, he gave up and daydreamed endlessly about eating chicken pot pies all day.
The next day, he quit his job. Edward realized that he never felt the same way about accounting then he felt about chicken pot pies and decided that this was the first step to start REALLY living. Years went on and Edward found himself eating hundreds of chicken pot pies, even going as far as starting to write a book concerning the proper etiquette to eating chicken pot pies, and every night he dreamed about becoming a best-selling author and breaking culinary records with his book. Although he was working long and hard on his book, he often lost himself in daydreaming about all the possible success, going on press runs, being revered by the pot pie community, and other fantasies. Soon, the daydreaming overtook the book writing, and day by day, he started writing less and less about chicken pot pies. At this point, he refused to leave the world that he had built himself, where he was a world-class pot pie chef, author, and owner of a large and critically acclaimed restaurant chain. From the wine paired with the meat pies to the way he would laugh on the Late Late Show, Edward had fantasized his entire career.
Sooner or later, he got down to business and finally finished the chicken pot pie book, (The Pot Pie Chronicles). The day he finished writing, he sat in his car and started to drive to his editor’s office.
“You won’t believe this book Jake, it’s absolutely amazing!” Edward shouted, gripping the USB of the work in his hand, “It’s got everything, from proper silverware to -” Edward stopped. He had dropped dead, seconds after starting his car.
“Edward? What’s going on?” Jake the editor asked.
Jake rushed to Edward’s house, where he saw his car barely backed out of the driveway. Edward had suffered a fatal heart attack and he was the first person to find Edward dead. Jake knew that living on a chicken pot pie diet isn’t a very healthy lifestyle, but to see his friend truly dead in the driver’s seat struck a chord.
A month later at the funeral, Jake was given the USB that The Pot Pie Chronicles were on. He took the book and made sure to get it published because that’s what Edward would have wanted.
Edward is dead now, and one could say that his book carries on his pot pie legacies, but to be truthful, the book went nowhere. It wasn’t that the writing was bad or it was poorly put together, it’s just that to be quite honest, no one cares about chicken pot pies the way that Edward cared about chicken pot pies.