Yesterday was an exercise in either poor communication or just coincidences. At work, coworker E. and I decided to get some lunch while waiting for some data to come in. We walked down the the cafeteria and found nothing appetizing, so we ventured further to the pizza shop in the building’s mall. I had a slice of chicken and broccoli pizza.
At this point, everything is just fine. But later on, our department is staying at the office late to work on a presentation, and our boss M. decides to order dinner for us (without taking suggestions first). He orders pizza. I had a slice of mushroom (do you know how they grow mushrooms?) and a slice of plain cheese pizza.
Beautiful. Wonderful. Yummy. I finally get out of there and catch the 10:00 train back home. I arrive, hop in the cab, only to receive a phone call from Denise saying she’s waiting at the station to pick me up.
That’s not really part of the story.
I arrive home, and M-D and Darren greet me with… you guessed it… pizza. So I had a slice of pepperoni stuffed crust pizza and called it quits. “Quits,” I said, “you are my last piece of pizza. Ever.”
Of course I lied about the “ever” part.
Just me sitting at a train station at a quarter to 11 at night…grr….
um- isn’t pizza bad for you?
Actually, it’s been well documented that cheese pizza is much better for you than burgers or other forms of fast food. Of course, when that pizza has a stuffed crust and a ton of pepperoni on it…
… it’s even better.
i more meant the whole cheese factor for spike- who didn’t seem to handle that well….
I still haven’t gotten over the broccoli on the first slice… Broccoli? On pizza?
Broccoli… and chicken. So good.