I just ate green tomato pie

I'm not one to give in to peer pressure easily. Over the course of my 37 years on planet Earth I've "just said no" more times than I can remember. I don't smoke, chew tobacco, do drugs, cheat on my beautiful southern wife, or anything else that Nancy Reagan wouldn't approve of. I do enjoy a tasty beer every now and then, but I look at that as more supporting Montana's great barley industry than anything else.

I did, however, just give in to peer pressure at work.

A buddy brought in his mom's homemade pie. It looked great, and he asked me if I wanted a piece. I asked what kind of pie it was, and he said GREEN TOMATO. I thought he must be joking, because what kind of madman would waste a perfectly good pie crust by filling it with green tomatoes?

Turns out that madman was his mom, and she's been doing it for years. He wanted me to taste the pie. I said no thanks.

"Come on, just one bite. It's delicious."

I stuck to my guns. No thanks. I've given up eating pie for Lent. Whenever that is.

"Come on, just try it real quick. You'll love it."

No thanks, I've got to get back to work. I think I hear my boss calling me.

"Brent. Come on."

No. I don't like tomatoes when they're cooked, raw, green, red, pink, or orange, so I know this isn't going to have a happy ending. In fact, if a tomato isn't in ketchup form, I'd rather it didn't go in my food chute.

"Brent, am I going to have to take away your man card?"

Many people don't understand the importance of the man card. It's completely fictitious, but still important. If someone takes your invisible man card away the shame will follow you for minutes, if not hours. I tried to hold my ground by telling him my wife already has my man card. He would not give up.

"Brent. Come on."

You can see that he was being quite persuasive, and I sensed that our relationship would be damaged forever if I didn't try his mother's green tomato pie. I took my fork out, grabbed a piece of the pie, and tossed it in my mouth.

It took a minute for the taste to sink in. At first it just tasted like an apple pie. Great crust, good taste of cinnamon and sugar, it was great. Then the tomato taste kicked in. It was like a thousand little tomato men all threw up in my mouth at once. I started sweating, chewing, and laughing as I tried to grind it into chunks small enough to swallow. I somehow managed to get it down, and drank the rest of my Diet Coke to try to mask the taste.

It was horrible. As they say on TV, don't try this at home.