or another summary of last evening
Yesterday, after my class was finished, I rode my bicycle to a bar on Corso Italia. I had to go over some school notes. Or, more honestly, to quell that hollow hunger which at the time felt like an approaching and violently ironic demise. By this I mean: part way during the ride over, I stopped my bicycle and felt the sweet wave of uncounsciousness glaze over my eyes.
After I ordered, I got up to use a telephone. Upon my return, the spicy italian pizza pie (appropriately named after my hellish poet Dante) was sitting along with a glass of golden beer. There was a slice missing.
“Excuse me, did you serve my pizza?”
“Yes, is anything wrong?”
“Well there seems to be a slice missing from it”
“Someone stole your slice!?”
I didn’t care, past the idea that the culprit had also left some kind of poisonous solution on it.
She asked around. “Did you steal his slice?” Once it had been ruled out that no soul in the room would be strange enough to do such a thing, a witness came forward.
“He was wearing a black shirt, heavier set….”
“Oh!” the waitress exclaimed, “that guy, he’s… we know him!”
It seemed as though she suspected this person all along. Rounding up another two waitresses, they entered the restaurant with that vigorous determination, the sense that lady justice will not be failed. It is one that only girls truly possess. Mind you, not all girls possess it; I repeat however that it’s only girls who possess it.
Justice was served, and She was content. Perhaps She is on my side, too, for I also felt content. An extra pizza was brought to me. The pizza theif payed for my meal, and the pact of victim anonymity was not broken. I never had to see this strange man, know who he was, or why he desired my slice so.
Things get stranger when I something like this happens and you go to the washroom to find your slice half eaten and lying on the floor.
Either way, my tip was as large as it would have been had I bought the meal. She appreciated it, but slipped the cash into my front pocket as I left the perplexed establishment. I liked her, and felt that this was not something to argue about.
“Ok, but you know my intention was there” I said. “It must be so strange to confront someone as you did.”
She smiled and walked back inside to close up for the night.