Peace of Pizza

04Jun08

There comes a time in a young girls life when she needs to stop mucking about and sit down in the park with her boyfriend and share a mozzarella pizza.

This time usually comes at the end of a gruelling period of fighting, fighting that ends only when you stub your cigarettes out on the lid of the greasy carton, and meander home, hand in hand, to tired even for make-up sex.

At home, you listen to Nina Simone and drink some Lapsang Suchong and look at each other and realise you are getting to know each other. And you are willing to bet this is a pretty good thing.

 And as for the eating. I have said before that fresh air and exercise are the best condiments I know. Would now like to revise that statement: letting him be in charge of ordering even though I would have preferred the Fungi is really what dots the i in pizza. I actually peeled the last of the gummy pale cheese from the cardboard, not bothering with napkins, licked the drizzle from the salami slices from my fingers, ravenous. Letting someone else be in charge – heavenly. Even if it will lead to more take-out and less Sauternes.



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