Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Woman on the Verge of Paradise: Pizza Non-delivery
“CALL ME! I CANT GET A HOLE OF YOU!”
Mr. Salsa’s email erupted with urgency, so I called him immediately.
“Hi, it’s Robyn.”
“Oh hey girl, yeah, my emails to you keep coming back.” But I just got your email message. In fact, that’s why I’m calling. “And you’re not on my Facebook page.” Yeah I prefer you don’t have easy access to all the writing I’m doing about you, Mr. Salsa.
“Well, I don’t like to spend much time on Facebook” I explained.
“So what are you doing right now?”
“Not much, some writing projects. It’s a lazy day. I’m still in my pajamas. What about you?”
“I just drove my roommate to the Sacramento Airport.” He has the place to himself, wants me to know it. “So do you want to come over for pizza? You can come in your pajamas.” He giggled.
Admittedly, I was tempted. When a woman hasn’t had "pizza" in a long, long time, she craves it. I’m not talking about anchovies, peppers, or any extra spice. No pepperonis either. Just the basic spread topped with sausage, and I’d be satisfied. Very satisfied.
Unconvinced of his “pizza” delivery skills, though, I came to my senses. “Thanks, but I’m going to stay in. Maybe another time.”
“Okay. Can I put your number in my phone?”
“Sure, I have yours now too.”
We ended the call. Crap! Did I just blow my only opportunity for "pizza" in this town?
I went dancing two days later. My friend Brandi and I sipped sodas while scoping out prospective partners. Mr. Salsa crossed the floor and headed towards me several times, only to ask the blonde svelte 20-somethingers for dances —and, perhaps, to share some "pizza." We didn’t talk or dance at all. Instead, I hit the floor with a few other men, then got bored and walked out with Brandi. Meanwhile, I noticed Mr. Salsa whirling a golden haired gal —no doubt in hopes of "pizza."
En route home, I got a sudden urge to pull over.
“I’ll take an individual slice with sausage,” I told the guy at Round Table. “Please, extra sausage, and thick crust.” As he walked away to place my order, I continued: “Extra thick, and really, really hot. I'll blow on it. Hard too, but not crusty.” I wiped saliva from my chin.
It was the best pizza I had in a very, very long time.