On February 13th, five or six years ago, I ordered a pizza for dinner. It was a delicious, pepperoni pizza – Papa Johns if I’m not mistaken. At this point in my life, I had been dating Wife for a year or two, but she didn’t live with me. I lived with my friend, Dickmar, who was out working in the oil fields. For some reason the next day, Valentine’s Day, I was home alone and not at work. I don’t think it was a weekend. It could have been one of the weird random holidays teachers get off work like Bastille Day or maybe I just took the day off simply because I felt like it. Regardless, I was sitting in my apartment watching Sportscenter when a pizza man came to my door.
Pizza man (A middle eastern man – and before you start reading this in an Apu (from The Simpsons, yeah, that Apu) voice, I wrote MIDDLE EASTERN man): Here is your pizza.
Me (adjusting my shorts because I just put them on): Uh, I didn’t order a pizza.
Pizza man: This pizza is for you.
Me (confused look on my face): I ordered a pizza last night. I ate it already.
Pizza man (somehow patient): This is a new pizza for you. Sign here (he hands me a credit receipt).
Me: I ordered a pizza last night! I already ate it. I don’t want another one.
Pizza man (shoves the pizza into my arms and walks off)
Me: I better not get charged again or my girlfriend will call your manager!
I brought the pizza in and decided to make the best out of a bad situation. I opened the box and noticed that the pizza was misshapen; it looked like a naughty cake, like an ass or a pair of breasts, and I thought, What the hell? They just brought a misshapen pizza to my apartment. What’s going on? I hope there is nothing wrong with it, as I swallowed my first bite.
Soon thereafter, my phone buzzed and it was Wife (I hope this isn’t confusing to you – she was Girlfriend then). She asked what I was up to, and I told her about my zany adventures with the pizza man coming again today. I told her that I told him that my girlfriend would sure let him have it if he charged me twice. She said in her usual, peppy voice, “Happy Valentine’s Day! You got the pizza I ordered for you!”
It all made sense now. Duh, she got the pizza for me because she knows how much I enjoy eating. What a nice girlfriend! After we laughed about my confusion, I told her how they messed up the pizza and how it was shaped like a pair of doughy, cheesy jugs. She said, “Really? It was supposed to be shaped like a heart.”
I spun it around. Oh, yeah, it does look like a heart.