Pizza has always been there for me. Pizza has nourished me and sustained me when, as a college student, I simply could not find anything to eat on campus at 2:00 am. Pizza would show up at my door and help me through my cram-sessions. Pizza often comforted me late at night while I struggled to find the words for my term papers. The beauty of Pizza was that even if I called upon Pizza in the middle of the night, I could always count on finding Pizza waiting for me the next morning. Sitting there in the kitchen, waiting to kiss me good-bye as I rushed out the door to my final, or to turn in my masterpiece of writing genius. Aah, Pizza. After college, Pizza continued to play a crucial role in my life. Pizza facilitated one of my first dates with my husband. And, after having children, Pizza has–on more than one occasion–served the purpose of providing my family with a balanced meal … something from each of the food groups, no?
Of course, Pizza spent a lot of time with Beer. But let us not overshadow Beer with Pizza’s nourishing qualities. Beer was always the life of the party. A welcome relief from a long night of studying, or a catalyst for making weekend plans. To be honest, Beer and I didn’t totally hit it off when we first met. We didn’t really start to hang out so much until after college. That’s because in college I was too fond of Beer’s cousin–Malibu Rum. But, Beer and I have slowly grown closer through the years. We’ve made some good memories, and taken some priceless pictures together. Like that time we decided to make sand-angels at the sand dunes. Or, that time we set our neighbor’s deck on fire because we thought it would be nice to move the fire pit closer. There was also that one time in Las Vegas … I wish I could tell you about that one time in Las Vegas. But, as they say … what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Especially now that Beer is no longer with us.
(Bows head in a moment of silence.)
Pizza and Beer were practically inseparable. In fact, I had the good fortune of spending more time with Pizza and Beer this week than I have in years. I think we may have had dinner together three times this week. There was Pizza–always mixing it up a little, but remaining a steadfast and reliable source of strength and stable blood sugar. And then there was Beer, not to be out-done by Pizza … keeping our glasses full and trying to dilute that blood sugar with a little unpredictable fun. Pizza and Beer always made for a good time.
Until that tragic moment this morning when the button popped right off of my pants and shot Pizza and Beer square between the eyes. Down they both went. With a single shot. I don’t even think they knew what hit them. We were all in a state of shock. (On the bright side, I now have one more pair of pants to donate to the local thrift store.)
Pizza and Beer will be severely missed. Rest in Peace, my dear friends. Rest in Peace.