The Pizza Luce

Where to start...where to start?

As always, today sucked ass.

You drove by the house after work in case Sweetie was still awake. Her light was on so you parked and went into the house. When you got to her room, you found her tangled in the comforter with the TV and lights still on, but she was dead asleep.

When you flipped off the light, she immediately bolted upright in bed. You said, "It's OK, Sweetie. It's just me. You fell asleep with the light on, and I turned it off." Then you kissed her and told her to go back to sleep.

She won't remember any of that tomorrow.

So, you decided to go out for a slice at Pizza Luce, because it's close and they have half-price pints of beer after 10 PM.

You walked in to find the waitress who has the pink hair and the nice butt (in blue Dickies pants) sweeping and mopping the dining room floor. She had all the chairs up on the tables, and you immediately feel guilty, so you ask the cute girl (with the nose ring) at the counter if it's still OK to sit. "Oh, yeah," she says. So, you wait next to the "please wait to be seated" sign.

The waitress with the nice Dickies butt asks if it's just you. "Yes," you say, "just me."

"Are you ordering from the menu or slices," she asks.

"Slices," you say.

She tells you to order at the counter.

So you go back to the cute girl at the counter, and she gets you one meat slice and one veggie slice, and a pint of Amstel light.

She checks your ID, and you hand her your bank card, which is...uhg...declined. For what reason...who knows, because there's money in the bank. Not a whole lot of money, mind you, but enough to cover pizza and beer.

You say to her, "Ouch. Well, that's never good." And you hand her another card, which immediately goes through, but it's still an awkward moment, and you wonder why, because you have a girlfriend, and you certainly don't need another one of those. One woman at a time is more than enough. So, what the fuck do you care what this other woman thinks? This woman you don't even know. A complete stranger.

You tip her two dollars.

Ego. It's a shitty thing. If you could hack it off yourself with a butcher knife like a sixth toe or a second head...you would.

And with the above thought in mind, you eat your pizza, and drink your beer, and order another beer, and drink that beer.