“You want to
buy circular food?”
“Yes.”
“For a sixth grade geometry class.”
“Yes.”
“And it has to be circular?”
“So it can be measured accurately. ”
“I see.
Will oranges work? They’re
healthy.”
“They’re not circular. They’re spherical.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“We’ve only covered the formula for
circles. Spheres are next week.”
“I see.
Could you wait until…”
“They’re celebrating Pi Day. Today.”
“And you couldn’t just buy a pie?”
“Too easy.”
“I see. And easy is bad.”
“I’m a
man. I accomplish nothing until it stops
being a task and becomes a life quest.”
“I sort of figured that out. I suppose cookies would be out of the question then?”
“I sort of figured that out. I suppose cookies would be out of the question then?”
“I prefer to have one big circle rather than
a lot of little circles.”
“A giant cookie.”
“Perhaps.
If you have one.”
“I'll check with the bakery.”
She checked.
"They have two."
"I'll take them."
The woman at the bakery looked more than a bit confused as I ordered 2 twelve inch cookies decorated with the symbol for Pi.
"I didn't know there was a symbol for pie," she said.
I drew it for her.
Blank stare.
Explained that it was a letter in the Greek alphabet. Mathematical symbol.
Still blank. Tentative. Darkly suspicious. Eyes narrowing. As though certain I was part of some obscure cult and had just asked her to carve a Toltec sacrificial rune into the back of a live ferret. (I really should stop dressing in black.)
Further attempts at explaining the desire to celebrate Pi Day ("We have pies in the case right over there.") and the date and 3.14 were only slightly more helpful. But I did finally get the cookies.
I delivered them just in time to witness the spectacle. Exercises in precision measurement and calculation, coupled with attentive and detailed exploration into the geometric wonders and rewards of sixth grade edible math.
