THE CHALLENGE

For the first time in literally years I indulged in a piece of chocolate cream pie at a new buffet restaurant and with the first bite of that smooth, silky desert I was back in the High School Cafeteria…

As seniors we had a choice by seniority – to eat the daily lunch prepared by the ever watchful Miss Miskelly, the matron of the school kitchen or we could cross the street to the smokey, jukebox rocking land of sodas and subs - the Orange and Blue Hub. 

I preferred the cafeteria and its warm, friendly, sweat sock ambiance.  A gymnasium converted from basketball court to dining room each day.  It was polished wood, dark and dank.  But much less crowded than the raucous Hub where one had to do battle to get fed before the bell rang the lunch period over.

The “great challenge” as it would come to be known, all started before school began that year.  Bub and I were “tooling around” in his dad’s 54 Buick chatting about our hopes and fears of what would soon be our last year at MHS (hopefully).  We passed the Hub which we knew was girding its staff for the onslaught that would come the next day.  

Bub said, “Ah the good ole Hub - I love their subs…why I could eat one of them every day this school year and still not be tired of them!”  

I replied immediatley – “Wanna Bet?” 

“Yah I betcha,” he yelled over the constant clank of the old Buick’s aging values.  “But what’s going to be your part of this bet?”  

And thus he threw down the gauntlet.  I pondered a brief moment and blurted – “I’ll eat 180 pieces of cafeteria chocolate cream pie!”  And that started a challenge that would last the school year.

The cafeteria nor the Hub's menus never changed.  

Each cafeteria meal each day was written in stone.  Get the brown heavy plastic tray.  Slid it.  Grab the grub.  Chicken  crockett's on Monday…ham slice on Tuesday…mystery meat on Wednesday…sloppy joe's Thursday and lastly Mrs. Paul’s fish sticks ended each week.  At the end of the line were the deserts.  The healthy stuff the closest – apples, pears and bananas.  And the real deserts – apple pie, peach pie and my daily “treat”  the chocolate cream pie with the saw-dust Gram Cracker crust were a bit of a reach over the counter.  

Miss M stood guard observing each student’s tray.  She many time pushed the apples…”Why not take a piece of fruit, remember an apple a day…”  I always responded “no thanks and grabbed the pie as she gave me a scowl that parents use when you don’t eat your broccoli.

And so the year rolled by  The seasons changed.  The games we played came indoors.  But my challenge remained unchanged.  

By Christmas vacation Bub had downed at least a ton of lunch meat covered in shredded lettuce laced in heavy oil and hot peppers.  And as for me – I don’t even want to go there - my cardiologist may be reading this – I am sure that chocolate cream pie must top the list as one his best friends.

And then in the last week of April the inevitable happened – as I moved down the line on that fateful Friday there was only one piece of chocolate cream left…this is not possible - my cloyingly sweet pie choice was not the favorite of most students – too sweet!  I inched closer to the prize and then a dopey freshman grabbed the last piece – OH NO!  I had had 143 pieces in a row – I couldn't let this kid beat me with the finish line so near.  

Bub would never have this problem for if the Hub ran out of subs at lunch he could just go after school and get one for a snack before dinner.  As for me there was no after school chance for the cafeteria food – unless it was in the big dumpster!

I paid for the certified nutritionally sound lunch and followed the kid to a table full of other freshman boys.  He sat and then noticed me.  He looked scared that he had somehow broken one of our high school pecking order caste rules and “offended” a Senior like me.

I said firmly, “I need your pie!”  He responded with the typical frosh response – “What?”  

“I need that piece of pie,”  I dug in my pocket for some change.  

He spoke again – “Why?”  “Because it’s the last piece and I … never mind.  I just have to have it…!  I'll give you 40 cents for it.”

Now many years later this same freshman would wind up as a day trader on Wall Street and he already showed promise for his future craft as he was known as a “math shark” in algebra I class.  A glint showed in his eyes…one that many would see years hence as he liquidated an asset…“Humm…very interesting,” was his only reply.  

I upped the anter – “65 cents!” 

He just smiled the smile of one whose knows he has the upper hand and waited.  

“OK A BUCK – But that’s my last offer!” I whined.

“And if I would rather eat it myself…?”  he let that threat just hang there.  

I immediately snarled in his face – “If you don’t take the buck you will be eating it with a broke n arm!!!”  

This future financier already how to the art of the deal.  He pushed the pie toward me – “A dollar and a half!!!”   I dug deep and reluctantly gave him the dough for the desert. 

 And after 180 school straight days passed I had ingested 180 pieces of chocolate cream pie - a record that is still on the books of cafeteria lore. 

As for Bub – he got an upset stomach near the end, missed a day of school and lost our bet by a single foot-long.