And he orders pizza with seventeen toppings because someone dared him to back in high school and it tasted great and it stuck, and now he orders it to remember that day, the day he dared, the day he smiled without worrying that something might be in his teeth, not caring at all, almost wanting one of those seventeen toppings to be in his teeth to show everyone how he dared and was smiling about it. “Yes, I want all of those. That sounds right. Thanks. No, that’s okay. I’ll pick it up.”
And he drives the car that he found on the side of the road one day saying “FREE CAR,” and he took the keys that were sitting on the windshield, and he drove it, and it made weird noises, but he fixed it and now it was his car, and he drives it to pick up his pizza with seventeen toppings, even though they could have delivered it. He doesn’t know when he’ll get home, so he does not want to have to be there when they arrive. He wants to get the pizza.
And he goes to get the pizza by taking a road he has never gone down before. He wants to look for the pizza. He wants to be able to say he found the pizza, he found what he was looking for. And he gets lost, but he doesn’t mind. That’s the fun part. He likes it more than he anticipates liking the pizza. He doesn’t specify which toppings when he orders, even though he hates most toppings.
And he gets to the pizza place, but it’s the wrong pizza place. He ordered from the other location, the one on the other side of town, and that’s when he just wants the pizza delivered. He wanted to get it, but now he just wants it. He calls and asks to switch and they say okay and so it will be delivered he only needs to get home.
And he drives home. And he sits in the car for a little while, wanting to be ready. He eventually decides that the more he thinks about the pizza, the longer it will take to come. That is simple science. And then he gets a call. The pizza will not be delivered to his address. It is too far. Why didn’t he order from the other location? And then he sees a pizza being delivered to his neighbor, and his neighbor has the best smile, and he really wants to share that pizza, or maybe take it all for himself.
And he decides that if he is not to get the pizza, and he is not to have the pizza delivered, then he will have to make the pizza. He starts from scratch: finding a recipe online, getting the ingredients out of the cupboard, realizing that this particular pizza will have to have mustard for the major sauce, as he is no longer willing to go to the grocery store for dinner tonight. He realizes that there will not be shredded cheese on this pizza, but the slices of cheese that come individually wrapped in plastic, and that is simply how this pizza will be.
And the oven does not turn on. He turns it, but it does not on. He pulls out the manual, but he does not understand what he is supposed to do to fix it, and so he sits with his uncooked pizza and begins to shed a tear. Manual pages strewn across the floor, he begins to sob, to throw the various ingredients of the pizza into the trash aggressively, and to never have pizza again. Ever.
And he hears the doorbell ring. The neighbor has extra pizza.