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Male Intruder Part I – OMD!


In the busiest time of my travel adventures I could be gone for as long as up to six weeks of working everyday so I created a few rituals to ease back into life in Chicago. Try to get the bags unpacked, laundry done and a workout in within 24 hours of landing at home. For years due to scheduling I would go from a cold SB city to a warm weather singles cruise and I would find myself washing my SB Day of Game uniform sometime around St Patrick’s Day. Luckily, I live in high rise with 15 washers!
Another welcome home treat would be pizza night and Pajama Monday. Pajama Monday should be self-explanatory but- Pajama Monday is when the rest of the world is having a work day weekday and you wear your pajamas all day, catch up on the mail and tackle that full DVR. Since the kitchen is empty in order to have sustenance on Pajama Monday without leaving the house you need a food that is delish repetitively and at all times of day – pizza.

Honestly pizza night is the best coming home from the road treat. I live alone and very much desire that my pants fit so pizza is normally not allowed. One particular night there was an incident that has come to be called – The Pizza Guy Story.

I came home from Ohare and dumped the mail on the floor and the entire contents of the purse on the dining room table. If there were a movie about my life the Chanel Bag would be a character in it. After a long haul the inner holdings of my constant companion need to be categorized – grat envelopes, receipts, forgotten snacks wrapped in cocktail napkins, hotel keys I didn’t return….ect. Generally the pizza call – Dominos pepperoni and black olives- would have been made from the cab. The Building Nazis would be advised of pizza arrival as I refused their assistance with my bags in my long standing stand off against the doormen in my building.

So on this one particular night I had changed into loungewear – pajama shorts and a very oversized tshirt and the pizza guy knocked on the door. I opened the door, said hello then walked over to the kitchen table to get cash. When I turned around what did my wondering eyes see but two pizza guy balls staring back at me! And he was still holding the pizza in one hand and the two liter of Diet Coke in the other. Now let’s be technical for one second. There is no way I opened the door and didn’t notice the man didn’t have pants on! It would seem physically impossible he got his pants off in my 20 second walk from the door to the dining room. For the record his pants were buttoned but unzipped and the smallest part of him was thinking about getting excited about the situations. Finally and most insultingly the pizza man attached to the peek a boo penis looked… well ….bored. He looked at me then looked at his winky then looked back at me with….. the vaguest of shrugs.

My response? With a shout of ‘gimmie my pizza” I put my right hand full on the middle of his chest and gave a shove while my left grabbed the pie. Pajama Monday menu saved. I did not pay for the pizza.

This Friday – Male Intruder Part II

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One Comment
  1. John G. permalink

    Maybe that was the pepperoni????

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