Ever get one of those obnoxious eat-me-or-die cravings for food that just nag, nag, nag until you feel like you might combust if you don’t get some sweet sustenance? I felt it in my core, like the way that romance novels describe a pang for another human being. I wanted some fucking pizza.
It has always been my belief that character is made not from past actions or who we appear to be, but rather that it is derived from our innermost thoughts. So I guess that when I later reflected upon the events that transpired with that girl, she stuck her bubblegum claws in my skin and I just couldn’t get them out.
I did whatever any suave book character would do and stalked her school. I was looking for Waldo but her name was Aldo or Rose or Camilla and I was completely creepy for even trying. I was looking for a face without a name in a hopeless endeavor. I knew she was staying in the dorms, but either she hermited it up or never slept because I never caught a shimmer of her silhouette.
Okay, admittedly, I wasn’t too devoted to stealthily spying on a bunch of rich college kids, and didn’t stay for long before the eerie state caught me and I was wandering the city, clad in comfortable khakis and a huge white tee. A new sequel to a favorite video game of mine was supposed to be in stores today, and I wanted to grab a copy before returning to my dungeon.
But as I crossed the intersection heading away from the GameStop, I couldn’t withstand the draw to saucy delights and cheesy crusts. So naturally, I dropped into the nearest pizzeria. The weather was a burning humid monster, and the area surrounding the place wasn’t too crowded which meant quicker service. I burst through the doors, “FuckYeah” Meme in mind, and catapulted into the room, ready for a platter of Italian orgasm but was returned with something much greater than I had in mind.
Standing by the cashier, wearing a barely-there-boldly-bangin’ top was mistress Waldo herself. Me Gusta, I thought entering the shop.
Chapter 4
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