Schrodinger’s Mostquito Hawk: there is a pizza box on the floor of my kitchen. Under it is a mosquito hawk.
I do not want to pick up the box, just in case.
It’s real foggy out here in East Texas this morning. So foggy that when I drove down the ramp out of my apartment complex parking lot and out to the main road, it took me a minute to see the flashing police lights to my left.
The front axle from a pickup truck decided it didn’t want to be a part of the whole operation anymore, and three cop cars and a tow truck were on the scene to take care of it. I waited for another car to go by, and moved out into the road.
The whole time, I’ve got half a slice of leftover Hawaiian pizza hanging out my mouth. Breakfast. In my defense, I drive stick, so I needed both hands to shift and make the turn.
As I get to the cop cars and the officer directing traffic, we lock eyes. Dude is staring a hole through my pizza. He cannot figure it out. I can actually see, even with all the fog, the smoke coming out his ears trying to decode what I’m doing with this brown and yellow and bread-looking-thing hanging out my mouth at seven in the morning.
He grilled me the whole way by. Did not blink or shift his gaze once. Like he was trying to intimidate me out of my pizza. Fuck that noise.
Domino’s should let you just pick someone’s order at random to watch in the pizza tracker. Even if you haven’t bought a pizza. Like, what if you just like watching Amir V. do prep and you get excited when Johanna F. takes the pie out for delivery? It doesn’t even have to tell you what town the pizza’s in. I don’t care. I’m just in it for the Caribbean theme with the parrot.
Did I mention that I ate the entire thing in one sitting too? It’s like there was never any pizza in the first place.
I ordered a pizza (ham & pineapple, because I’m cool like that) from my phone, without talking to another human being.
On the subway.
And it got to my apartment five minutes after I did.