The Pizza Girl

The thing that I truly love about where I live is the fact that there is a pizza joint that makes absolutely incredible pizza just down the road from where I live.  Doing the work that I do, I come home at the end of the day and am almost-always famished.  With the paycheck I get at the end of the day, I can afford to get a pizza whenever I want.  But I am very selective about when I do this.  Partly for health reasons.  I love the stuff, but too much will turn me into a fatty and my arteries into sad faces.  I have to stay healthy for my job.  Not that I have to try hard.  It’s active work, and I come home each day exhausted.
But the other reason that I am selective about when I get pizza is because I like to get it when there is a certain girl at the place.  She’s the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  Her amber-blonde hair is all-natural.  It’s gorgeous.  It is tied behind her in a ponytail, but it is so long.  I’ve always wanted to see what it looks like when it’s down.  Flowing over her shoulders in rivulets.  A man can dream.  Her eyes are emerald green.  Such a rare combination!  She’s got a little extra pounds on her, but that doesn’t bother me at all.  It’s a sign that she’s not some girl that will only be eating salad if I take her out to dinner.  She likes to live a little.  Not to the point of insane excess, like so many American women, but just enough to have fun.  Shameful moment, I also notice her very large breasts underneath the company shirt.  Screw that.  No shame.  She’s gorgeous, and I won’t let the people who will say that I’m objectifying her ruin my affection.  The girl has some imperfections, though.  A quirky little nose, and a mouth that has some scar tissue on it, apparently from corrective surgery.  I find this even more appealing.  Those little flaws that give a person some character.

So I order pizza on the nights when I know that she’ll be there.  I never ask for delivery.  Why bother?  It’s literally down the road.  I’m exhausted at the end of the day, not but not that bad.  I can walk thirty feet from my apartment to get a bite.  That’s when I see her.  This place is never super-busy.  All the better for me.  It means that she’s free to talk.  Sometimes I’ll go and eat in, just for the opportunity.  The two of us bonded the moment we met.  She was delivering water and nearly dropped the glass on me.  Quick reflexes are the name of the game with me, so I catch it with barely any of the contents falling.  Much apologizing.  Apparently, this girl has had some problems with being something of a klutz.  Enough where she asks me not to tell her boss about this.  I agree, but only if she tells me her name.  And that’s how the story began.
Over the last few months, I would sometimes eat in, but only on the nights when I know that they are going to be pretty much dead.  I know every time of day in this place.  It’s a talent I got from what I do.  You learn to know everything about the places that are important.  She would sit at my table for a while, and we would talk.  She told me about how she was from a family that is wealthy, but they had problems with her. It seems that she had a history of not being the best kid.  Some drug use, and some problems with bi-polar that didn’t help her addictions.  Eventually, they got her a place and told her that they didn’t want her around.  It was pretty bad, for a while.  But she got into rehab, and has been clean for almost a year.  She’s working, while taking community college classes at night.  A roomie came to live with her, who doubles as her sponsor.  Now she’s doing her best to stay employed and not have to depend on her parents as much.  The tips here are shit, but being employed keeps her from thinking about things, and away from a life of addiction.  Apparently, the owner is an alright guy.
Told her about my day job, as an EMT.  The night job would take WAY too much explaining.  Not remotely close to ready for that.  Told her that I live just down the way.  But one night, I decided to be brave.  I asked if she wanted to maybe go out and grab a bite or something sometime.  Girl got all bashful.  Guess she doesn’t get asked out much.  As luck would have it, there was a big culture festival celebrating the Pacific Islanders in my state.  We have a huge population.  A chance to eat food that may or may not be good.  It was all coming together so nicely.  She gave me her address, and told me when she’d be free from work the night of the festival.  I was on my way to an awesome day.

The night came, and I decided not to get too dressed up.  I wanted this to feel a little casual.  Like it’s just two people getting to know one-another, without any expectations.  I hate formal dates.  There’s so damn much pressure.  It’s difficult.  I lead two lives, and both of them have enough pressure.  I don’t need more.  Some black slacks, gray shirt, and a loose-fitting black button-up shirt over that.  Look fly, but not so fly that it puts pressure.  Gotta play this right.
I get to her place, and it’s a typical two-level salt box.  Wealthy family indeed.  It”s a nice neighborhood, too.  The girl’s standing on the curb.  She’s wearing this cute little blue dress, perfect for summer.  Her hair is down, and it was everything I imagined it would be.  So flawless.  Her hands are on her little ditty bag.  I couldn’t have asked for something cuter than this.  Pulling up, she hops in quickly.  Guess I don’t have to be a gentleman.  Works for me.  It’s a new age.
The two of us talk about various things on the way there.  We’ve grown comfortable enough around one-another that we can get into serious stuff and it isn’t awkward.  She tells me about how she’s been prescribed new meds for her bi-polar disorder and it’s doing well.  She’s having less panic attacks and the cravings she’s been dealing with aren’t as severe.  The girl is positive and things are looking up.  So I caught her on a very good night!  Life is good.
Parking is tight downtown, but I find a spot.  We have a bit of a walk, and she actually takes a hold of my arm.  Old fashioned, maybe?  Sure, but that doesn’t bother me in the slightest.  The closer we get, the more smells we are greeted with.  All kinds of spices and meats and other cooking things.  It all smells so good.  I can hear her stomach rumbling.  Is mine?  Perhaps.  Tons of people in various cultural costumes.  How many of them get told they are “appropriating their culture?”  None, because people are here to have fun and nobody gives a shit about trivial crap like that.  We grab some skewers and make our way inside.
This place has everything one can imagine.  All kinds of beautiful artwork from various Islanders.  There are these amazing wood carvings done by a very jovial Samoan who has no problem packing on the calories, but clearly loves life.  Dude has arms that look like he could break me in two.  He talks about how long the carving process takes, and then there’s the sanding and painting.  Skilled artisans.  Speaking of, there’s a rather quirky Taiwanese lady that I actually knew doing spray painting art in real time and selling her pieces on the spot.  She has glasses so huge that you think her eyes are like a bugs.  Lady must be blind as a mole without them.  With incredibly broken English, she talks to herself about what should go where.  Like Bob Ross from Asia.
We also get to see several jewelry pieces.  My date marvels at some.  I play coy for a few, but end up buying her one that I could tell she was stuck on..  You can’t be a doormat to people, but you reward people’s dedication when they least expect it.  Best relationships should always be able to surprise you.  At least, that’s how I’ve seen things.
In the center of it all is a band that immigrated from Korea playing.  They are using classic instruments from several cultures.  Creates a very pleasant sound.  The two of us sit down and eat noodle bowls while listening.  I look over and there is a little smile on her face that doesn’t quit.  My normally passe expression also brightens up considerably.  The food is delicious.  So glad I didn’t get the curry.  From what I hear, that stuff was spicy in a way that people’s mouths were on fire.  You take a risk with Eastern food, but it’s worth it.  Especially with the right company.
Then the girl says asks me to dance.  It’s something slower.  People who are brave enough are holding each other there.  Do I dare?  The work I do at night demands that I stay in the shadows.  Am I brave enough to step into the light?  Seeing my hesitation, she assures me that it’s okay.  The calm determination on her face.  How can I refuse?  Going out on the floor, I pull her close.  Believe it or not, but I do know what I’m doing.  It’s not hard.  Fast stuff is hard.  Slow is just about closeness.  Feeling the heat from her body, and how she is in my arms, time seems to slow down.  I’ve aimed down my sights and had time do this, but never for something good.  Part of me wishes the song had never ended.  When it did, I almost found it hard to part.  The look on her face, it was unmistakable.  I had made the right choice..
Hours pass, and it doesn’t feel like any time at all had gone by.  I look at my watch and see that it’s an hour past midnight, but then she says that she doesn’t want the night to end.  She’s looking right at me when she says this.  Her gaze tells me that she’s serious.  Where will things go next?  I ask if she wants to come back to my place for a drink.  Says yes.  My smile is unmistakable.  She takes my hand and says that we should get going.  Like I’m going to argue.

The two of us are sitting on my couch.  I whipped up a quick drink – Turlock Bulldog.  It’s tasty as all get-out.  She tells me that she had fun, and was glad that she took my invitation.  It seems that she had been having trouble for the last few years finding dates.  She had kept wanting me to ask, but I never did. For a while there, she thought I never would, and it would be a friendzone situation.  But such was not to be.  When we finished our drinks, came the hard question – what do you want to do now?
Looking her right in the eye, I search for a hint that she wants to stop.  I move in closer, and her breathing speeds up.  Setting my glass down, she does as well.  We’re so close now.  The sound of her fast breathing is right in my ear as I put my hand her cheek.  Eyes close, moves into my touch.  Her arms move around my neck.  I know that we’ve passed the point of no return.  Works for me.  Our lips meet.  Such a good kisser.  This girl has experience, and she seems to know what she wants.  Her tongue meets mine, and I pull back.  Standing up, I take her hand and pull her up with me.  Thus began my incredible night with my pizza girl.  If only that night could have never ended.

Until next time, a quote,

“Never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary.” – Oscar Wilde

Peace out,

Maverick

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