I got f**ked by National Pizza Day. Inadvertently f**ked, that is. I'm sure the pizza place where I had acquired the pizza from, did not dispatch said pies with the intention of causing bodily damage. This is not a plausible business plan.
Wednesday, February 9th, 2022, was National Pizza Day. Or so I learned from the trusty interwebs. If it is written there, then it must be true, am I right? I hadn't had pizza for quite some time, so I thought it was in the budget that I could treat myself to some pizza. I rang up my usual haunt and ordered three pizza's. (Given the outrageous prices for pizza these days, this establishment seems the best bang for my buck at $33 for three pizzas.) I ordered a Meatball, a number 18 (beef, bacon, & sausage) which is my go to, always. It's like a meat lovers, but without the ham. I'm allergic to ham. Then I rounded out the triad with a Chicken Teriyaki pizza, which is the only acceptable pizza to have pineapple on.
I quickly dispatched the Meatball, followed by the Number 18, into my belly. I had been dreaming almost the entire day about having pizza for supper, so I avoided unnecessary snacks or mid-day lunch, just to make room for pizza that night.
I realize that by admitting that I devoured two pizzas all by my lonesome seems excessive, but they were small 10" pizzas, most of which are taken up by crust. I'm not making excuses for my gluttony, as I don't need explain myself to anyone, except maybe my doctor, and I know she does not read my stuff.
The third pizza, the Chicken Teriyaki, I left for another day. I placed it in the refrigerator until I could give it my full attention later, which turned out to be yesterday. Friday.
I placed the pizza onto a plate, blasted it a couple times in the microwave to heat it up to optimum temperature. Cold pizza is f**king disgusting, especially if it's been refrigerated. I sat down in front of the TV and watched some Bitchin' Rides, while I enjoyed my pizza, now topped with more Teriyaki sauce. (I buy the Golden Dragon stuff. It really is the best.) The meaty part tasted great, as I placed the crusts idly by until I could address them afterward.
The way I like to eat pizza, generally, is eat the center part first, then the crusts after, like a snack. This is what I did with the first two pizzas from Wednesday night. No issues, but I hadn't accounted for the crusts to get extra tough in the days since it was made. Now the crusts were hard. Really f**king hard. Harder than I initially thought, actually.
Usually, the crusts firm up a little as they cool off, but they remain somewhat leathery, if that makes sense. Thick, but manageable to bite portions off, but this was blatantly not the case with the crusts from the Chicken Teriyaki. I guess the added 48 hours in the fridge caused it to thicken up like f**king concrete. I wrestled my way through a couple of them, when all of a sudden, I heard a crunch. Not the kind of crunch that sounds like a pizza crust being crushed between my molars, but a more distinguishable "oh f**k" kind of crunch. I quickly vacated my mouth-hole to discover that I'd broken one of my lower teeth. This little f**ker that I had my dentist work on last August, was now sitting in the palm of my hand.
I've always had weak teeth. Ever since I was knee high to a squirrel, I've had bad teeth. The dentists would give me shit, passing on the news to my parents. I remember many a "discussion" with an extremely inebriated father, who would pull my chair in close to his and he'd scream at me to brush my teeth, to avoid having a nasty set like he had. However, despite all my efforts to follow the guidelines set upon me by the National Dentistry whatever, my teeth have always had cavities, chips, breaks or worse. Hell!! When I broke my back, I also managed to break five and a half teeth in the process. That extra half was because one was already broken, ha ha.
What sucks is, I had insurance at the time, when I broke those teeth along with three vertebrae. I don't have insurance, now, though. Every dentist visit is paid for straight outta pocket. Canada rocks, as far as health care, goes, but dentistry sucks balls.
So far, I'm not feeling any pain. Chances are, the one that broke on me, had previously had a root canal, I suspect. Memory losses over the years, hinders me from actually recalling what has been done to what.
Tomorrow is the Super Bowl. I had planned on making some ribs for the occasion, but to say the least, I'm a little gun shy. I doubt anything else will be tumbling out of my mouth, but ya never know. I'm sure if something does, I'll be writing about that too.
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