Pizza, pizza!

Due to a busy morning and, per the schedule, what looked like it was going to be a busy afternoon, yesterday I planned to take a short lunch break. Because I like to pretend I’m tiny and wealthy, I usually grab lunch from one of the near-ish delis on my break. Due to pressed timing, I decided to opt in for the closest thing available: a pizzeria next door to my office.

Upon walking into the pizza shop, at almost the exact same time my stomach loudly roared in hunger just as my eyes landed on an attractive, stylish man sitting close to the register, eating a single slice of pizza. I was greeted by the guy behind the counter, “hello Señorita, what can I get you?” Ummm one slice WAS enough last time. I’m trying to lose some weight here, is pizza really the best option? From the counter guy I heard, “HOW MANY SLICES YOU WANT?” Okay, I’m actually starving but the cute, metro boy is just eating one slice. “ONE? TWO? THREE? FOUR?” I panicked. My stomach growled for a second time. “FIVE? SIX? SEVEN?”

“Uh, the margherita. Just one slice, please.”

Who was I kidding? I was back for seconds twelve minutes later. Thankfully, the most-likely gay young man (remember, I work in Chelsea, hello?) had finished his skinny man meal and left. Also thankfully, the owner gave me slice number two at a discount — maybe because I scorned him for judging me, but probably because he really was. At least I burned more calories having to make the walk twice?

Moral of story: always trust your gut. Especially when it comes to pizza.

Pizzaholic

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