The pizza man I fell in love with… We started off on the wrong page. This guy had a pop-up pizza stand at a brewery I like. I asked if I could just order one slice. He said no. I said okay fine I’ll take 4 slices, which was a bummer because I really just wanted one. But sure.

I bought a four-pack from the brewery’s little to-go beer fridge. The guy who rang me up took a while to come from the bar, which, again, was fine, I had no where to be.

“Sorry about that,” he said taking my credit card, “things are busy up there.”

He sold me beer, I took the beer, and I went out to the patio to drink the beer (just one of the beers) while I waited for my pizza. Which is where it all started to fall apart.

I’m sitting on the patio, no cares in the world — happy as a freaking clam. Drinking a brew. Slurping a terg. A little high, I’ll say it! — when the guy who sold me the beer walks over.

He was like: “What the FREAK do you think you’re doing?!?!”

At least that was the energy. He really said something like, hey man, just so you know, the to-go beers are meant to-go. We sell those at a liquor-store price, and they are not for drinking at the patio. He was fidgety-mad. Like he was so frustrated/ticked/peeved that he needed to shift his weight around a bunch.

I’m ashamed/suprised!/flustered, and I’m feeling the eyes of everyone on this patio looking at me like “tsk tsk, delinquent alert!” so I gave a meandering sort of response, along the lines of, oh no (no no no no no no noo) I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to like cheat-steal a beer or anything. Do you want me to leave? I can leave right now and pour out this beer.

“I don’t want you to waste any beer but will you please put the rest of the beers in your backpack?” Now please? I want to walk away already.

“Sorry, yeah for sure” I don’t want to be here anymore, shit, and I have to wait for my pizza?, and all these people are gonna be like “oh I see, so he bought a full four-slice pizza and also a four-pack. Whatta Glut! What, you’re just going to get hammered and all cheesed up? Think this is some bachelor pad, Chuck E. Cheese? That’s what’s going on? Get a room!”

And as I’m planning my escape route (I could leave everything, go around front, walk through the front door and grab my pizza… I risk it not being ready, and then I’d have to do it twice, which would be a bummer. OR! I could wait super long to make sure it’s done, and then walk through the middle of the store with my backpack on, past the bar, grab the pizza and leave. That option’s quick, but still, it’ll be a walk of shame. Not great. And if the pizza isn’t ready, I’ll just have to wait there and sit in front of the bar for my pizza while this angry bartender guy glares a hole in my back.)

I was deep into planning, when the pizza man walks out, sort of glances behind his back like, “yall seeing this?” and walks up to me with my pizza.

“Hey.” he says

“Hi.”

“You never came in for your pizza.”

He’s still holding onto my pizza. I shrug, and look down at the table.

“I was worried you weren’t going to come back for it. Anyway, it’s time you had some pizza. Here you go man.”

Again, not what was said at all, but that was the vibe! It was like he was this long-lost friend who I’d made very loose and ambiguous plans to meet up with, and I’d hadn’t shown up, because cmon, no biggie. We didn’t lock it in.

But for him, it was a biggie, in a no-stress but still sort of an it’s-important-to-me-that’s-why-it’s-a-biggie kind of way. Like, it’s no biggie, but you are biggie to me, so…

He redeemed me. I was outcast, but he gave me pizza. And in doing so, rescued me.

Our eyes locked.

“Thanks.”

“No problem man.”