So yesterday I was up in Salt Lake dropping off resumes at elementary schools hoping that it would give me a sliver of a chance in finding a teaching job for next year. On the way to my last destination I past The Pie. I don't know if you have ever had pizza from The Pie, but if you haven't you need to. It is easily one of my favorite pizza joints. I decided that since I was famished from not having lunch, and it was fast approaching 4:3o, that I better stop and get me some food before enduring my long 40 minute drive home. I stopped at The Pie, and ordered me a nice ham pizza. During the wait I ran to 7-Eleven and got me some root beer because what is pizza without root beer?
When I went back to pick up my pizza I lifted (more like hefted) the box off the counter and vigorously thanked the cashier. You have to heft their pizza boxes because they are actually filled with real pizza, not fake pizza like Little Caesars (don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of the Hot 'N Readys, but sometimes nothing beats a real pizza). When I walked back to my car I noticed that they had some convenient tables chillin' where I could easily sit and eat my pizza like a normal person. Did I? I most certainly did NOT. I decided that I would attempt to eat my pizza while I was making my way to the freeway entrance. There are plenty of stoplights, right?
Well this was all well and dandy except I came to find out that this delicious pizza was hot and fresh, which means the cheese was wonderfully messy. I was attempting to eat some pizza at a stoplight, but I was mostly struggling with the cheese. I noticed that the car next to me was lined up perfectly with mine, which meant that the driver had a perfect view of my disabled attempt of enjoying the best pizza ever. I glanced over to see if the driver had noticed my efforts of divulging myself. Sure enough the driver (a really cute guy) was looking over with a look of disbelief. I wanted to roll down my window and offer some, but the light turned green, so I was forced to drive. I got a good laugh out of it, and I was able to enjoy the best pizza I've had in days, weeks, months, years. Trust me, nothing is more classy and attractive than a girl struggling with a piece of pizza at a stoplight. This may or may not be one of the reasons that I don't have a boyfriend. :)
