Rising Shards

Pippi and Evy’s first meetup was going well. My ego was feeling very satiated with how many times Pippi had told me how cool Evy was already. Combine that with some heavy-ish drinks, I was having too much fun. But I did remember I had work the next day so I couldn’t drink too much. That said, I definitely immediately tried to rationalize my decision to get another drink before our food even got to us.

“You sure you want another?” Evy asked.

“Yeah! I got this,” I said. “It’s lunch-ish time, I can get it together before tomorrow.” Stella said. “I’ll just need…a lot of water when we get home…and to lie down a bit.”

“This is admittedly my first time drinking this much on a Sunday brunch/lunch get together,” Evy said.

“Sunday brunch/lunch is actually the best time to drink,” Pippi said.

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t…know.” Pippi said. She snort-laughed. “I just like it!”

I was definitely getting loopy, but Evy wasn’t showing too many signs that her drinks were affecting her yet.

“You hold your booze way better than me.” I helpfully announced, then laughed way too hard. I was maybe on the verge of becoming an embarrassing kind of drunk.

“I had like one drink.” Evy said.

“Still.”

“Still!” Pippi said. “Stella, Evy’s even good at uh, drinking. You should marry her.”

I nearly spat my drink out. “Pippi!”

“I’m just saying, she’s a keeper.” Pippi said. “Have you guys figured out labels yet?”

“Like what do you mean, like our self...labels?” Evy asked.

“No, she means like…” I said. “Like us. We’re still working on it, Pips. I told you that like two days ago. We’re taking it slow.”

“You sure didn’t take moving in slow.” Pippi said.

“Yeah, but.” I said.

“I know, I know. The ex traumas. I been there.” Pippi did a very slow blink, then tried to scratch her forehead. “Oh, I smudged my glasses real bad.”

As Pippi cleaned her glasses off, I shared a glance with Evy. Tipsy as I was, I still didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. And Pippi and I being all girlie girl gossips might do just that.

“I’m just saying she’s a keeper.” Pippi said again.

“You said that already.” I said.

“I don’t remember.” Pippi said. “What’s taking the food so loooong…”

We got appetizer plates, which had a salad on one and a slice of pie on the other for some reason.

“Is this the dinner?” Evy asked. “Because I thought we ordered the uh, the chicken dealies…”

“No, in the speakeasy era they uh,” Pippi said. “They liked to have the dessert with the appetizer because they got scared they wouldn’t make it to the end of the meal without being raided by the anti-speakeasy forces or rival speakeasies or whatnot. So they wanted the sweetness right away.”

“Huh…” Evy said.

“I mean it!” Pippi said. “I’m not making it up, it’s in a book…let me get my ebooks out I’ll get it to you…”

After trading some book recommendations, our main courses arrived, luckily before we spoiled our dinner with the pies.

“Ack!” Pippi said as she took a bite. “That’s…”

“Why is it sour?” Evy asked.

My first bite confirmed that somehow they added some really not great flavoring into the meal.

“I forgot that the food is authentic too,” Pippi said. “In that they kept the meat in vats of a preserving agent that makes them taste…like that. Then microwave them to cook them.”

“They had microwaves back then?” I asked.

“Uh huh!” Pippi said. “But don’t get me started about this era’s microwaves because I will not shut up and Evy will hate me.”

“I won’t hate you,” Evy said. “I’ll just counter back not shutting up about Cani sciences. Tell me about these ancient microwaves.”

“Groovy!” Pippi said. She asked for another round of drinks very loudly.