I had a nice slice of pizza the other day.
Scratch that. I only got a bite of nice pizza, and it was night time. Man, I'm terrible at blogging already, and it's only been a week vacation! Getting into the groove will be more difficult than I thought.
So I had the best bite of pizza I've ever had the other night. My cousin picked me up late to head over to New Jersey, and en route, we pit stopped at a pizza place because I told him to follow his heart. His heart wanted two slices of artichoke and one of crab. My heart wanted to use the bathroom. The Universe's heart wasn't going to have any of this and we couldn't find parking on the street.
Our solution was for me, the lucky, sleepy passenger, to head into restaurant, use the facilities, and get my cousin's his slices. Like a cool cat, I agreed to this endeavor as if I was confident and feline-like. Mentally, I looked at the long line for the club next door with all of the girls dolled-up and in heels with dapper men, and I cursed the Heavens!
First, I have two large pimples on my face right now because I think the first one got really lonely, and I didn't have any make-up on because I figured we'd head straight to New Jersey, that it was New Jersey, and that we couldn't possibly go anywhere cool this late at night. Well, I forgot that I'm in New York, that it was Saturday night, and that my cousin will stop for food anywhere if allowed.
So in I walked into the upscale pizzeria wearing flat shoes, big jeans, a hoodie, two pimples, and my sleep shirt. I stood behind the this group of women with shiny hair and equally shiny heels because I saw a sign that said I had to wait to be seated. I assumed that they were waiting too. In reality, I think it looked like I was trying to blend in with their group. Or maybe my grumpy-sleepy face was very apparent, because they kept eyeing me warily, and because I saw them eye-me warily, I got grumpier and started to scowl back.
Immediately I felt bad, so I started to smile instead, but that was just worst because now I looked unstable. Or perhaps that I was hitting on them. I don't know.
They eventually walked out when a blazered man popped his head into the door and said that they were going now. I was simultaneously angry that they wasted my time because I didn't have to wait for service and impressed that that blazered man commanded five women. A part of me thought that I should've stopped one of those shiny, tightly clad women to tell her that she didn't have to leave if she wanted pizza. I should also have said that she needed to eat more of anything, why not pizza. Instead, I strode past them, huffing, shoving my hands into my hoodie's pockets and bee-lining for the bathroom.
I've never felt so unattractive in my life. Everyone was dressed up. All of the women had heels and had eyeliner and smooth skin. I passed women being chatted up, then men blatantly leaning on things and scoping out women, and I thought that this was all too much for just a pizza place. I suppose that that's what happens in the Meat Packing District on the weekends. Even if it is just for pizza.
So I went to the pizza counter and carried out a to-go box of hot, steamy slices out onto the sidewalk where residual dressed-up people stood in line for a fancy club. I decided that I wasn't going to have any of that. I walked right through groups in the same way I think guided missiles go through schools of pigeons in the air, not caring if I ruffled anyone's feathers. I did get a few looks from guys, because I was an angry woman charging forward with a box of pizza, but that too just fueled my anger.
Food. Clearly I was just a woman who wanted food. I didn't need heels or boys or sequins. Liz Lemon would've been proud.
By the time I got to the car, I climbed in, successful and announcing how successful I was, when my cousin turned to me. I handed him the box, proud of myself, telling him about my success, and he turned me, searching my hands.
"Did you get my text?" he asked.
I frowned, shifting my eyes back and forth. "No." My hands free, I fished into my pocket and pulled out my mobile.
He wanted a Sprite.
Just can't win, Universe. Just can't win.