The true “Test” of any Relationship.
Remember that moment, the first time, your eyes locked, hands touch ever so slightly, a guilty nervous gulp right before the brain’s magnetic chemicals collide into the irresistible urge to stammeringly utter…
…“It’s alright, you can have that last slice of pizza”.
When you God-damn well knew YOU NEVER WANTED THEM TO HAVE IT, IT WAS YOURS! — it all starts with a slice of pizza, ends with who gets what side of the bed, later on you find yourself on the couch, slowly there after there’s some sweet sweet make-up shower sex; nah just kidding, what do I know — I’m single.
What I do know is that when it comes to Food, all bets are off.
Honey-moon period is over, baby!
There ain’t no shame in admitting the “REAL” truth — there’s no need to play along with the shenanigans any longer.
Stop pretending to be the “nice” individual in the relationship.
You know you want that last slice of pizza, and fuck people who say, “Sharing is caring!” — there’s a reason why pizza slices are already cut into pieces, it makes sharing easier; there ain’t no need to further divide those triangular shapes of delicious cheesy heavenly goodness for the sake of a “relationship”.
I get it, it’s all about compromises!
But…how much do you really wish to “compromise” before that last slice of pizza becomes the very representation of your wellbeing?
Your entire integrity rests on that ONE decision, and you fucked it up.
Establish your authority! — Be the VOICE of reason, in the relationship.
Give them the “Pineapple” test; order a pizza loaded with fruity goodness, and watch as the panic ensues — if they eat it, RED FLAG!
Get out of there as quickly as possible, only sociopaths and vegans enjoy “fruits” on their pizza.
Note to self: Tomatoes are fruit; Conclusion: Sociopath, confirmed!
Now you may be wondering at what point did calling an Uber graduate to ordering UberEats(?)
Well…let me take you back to a time when I wasn’t so very single and considered mildly desirable for relationship purposes;
It all began in my Sophomore year at University, I was that nerdy dude who skateboarded around campus; annoying “Chemical Engineering” graduates and attending “Drama Courses” to explore my emotional and artistic side.
Until one day, I genuinely got annoyed at the Professor for failing to figure out how to move on to the next Powerpoint slide. Bewildered and confused, much to the amazement of the 300+ other students, stoned out of my mind — I pronounced, “Excuse me, Sir! You mind if I come down and figure that powerpoint out for you?”.
Literally (not literally, figuratively) the entire lecture theatre froze, none of them had ever witnessed such profound bravery during one of the most daunting lecturer’s class.
I slowly walked my way down to the computer screen, and started flipping slides for the Professor like I was swiping left and right on Tinder. (Lying, I always swipe right on Tinder) (Another Lie, I don’t have Tinder; I just thought it was a funny line).
Lo and Behold the lecture had come to a record breaking 15 minute early stoppage due to the speed at which I was able to cycle through the presentation.
My antics had paid off, and every single of those fucking 300+ students felt the need to pat me on my shoulder and proclaim, “Dude, that was legendary!”.
It also got me the attention of this beautiful one in attendance at the lecture, and before you know it — she was taking an interest in my ability to maintain eye contact as I stared into nothingness.
Somehow this was quite fascinating to her, and we embarked on a journey we soon called a “Relationship”…time passed by and I graduated from being a Stoner to someone who had to get their shit together; I got two jobs, One Serious and One Internship — hence leaving me very little time to indulge in the “hip” partying culture we both enjoyed as a couple.
I could no longer present myself in attendance and these “parties”, but I was no fun-spoiler-hard-arse; I was of the opinion, “Have fun, my little princess!”.
She’d go on and party, whilst I attempted to figure out which job I’d take once I graduated.
All good things must come to an end, as fate would have it — and we’d found ourselves at a crossroads.
She REALLY wanted me at these parties, and I was often too tired and quite frankly just plain boring — no longer the once stoner skateboarder she’d grown found of.
Being the realist, I did make a promise — “I’ll attend the next Toga party, even though I hate Toga parties. But I’ll do it!”
Packing a set of towels in my work bag, I was committed to make an appearance after my work-shift.
As fate would have it, this would be the day my superiors asked if I could “help out” and stay a little longer; I didn’t want to disappoint, hence a text was sent from my phone with the following words…
“…Hey! Meet you at the party, might be a little late due to work. Stick with the gang and I’ll catch up with you guys”
Finally…changing into my towel clothing from my filthy corporate suit, I’d make an appearance at said party; and well there was PIZZA!
I hadn’t eaten, plus it was kinda late — so I figured, why not! Free Pizza, what’s the harm?
As I indulged in cheesy goodness I would soon be informed my partner had left the party to go home.
My peanut brain instantly registered, “SHE HAS NO HOME!” — she crashes at my place after parties.
I ran back to mine, in partial nudity; stumbling through my toga and hoping to not get arrested for public indecency, I’d finally made it home.
My two lovely housemates were chilling at the house with their counter-parts, binge-watching Breaking Bad.
At this point, I noticed the shit ton of pizza they’d ordered!
“No Pineapples! You want one?”
“Nah man…all good. I ate.”
“You sure, it’s the last slice?”
“Ahh…nah I’m good. I hate pineapples on pizza.”
“Ohh…yeah we forgot you’re one of THOSE types. Anyways, what’s with the sauna outfit?”
“Oh YEAH Fuck. Okay so…anybody seen [insert name of ex]; I guess she must’ve come here after the party? Phone’s off…I figure she might be mad at me ’cause I was late”
“She didn’t come here…you want us to go help look?”
“Yeah..let me just grab a t-shirt.”
“Here just take one of mine…”, said the girlfriend of one of my housemates.
“…Ahh Alright. Thanks!”
My friends all laughed and giggled at me, as I walked around campus wearing a T-Shirt that said “Girl Power”.
I was too distracted by the search party, hence to no avail — my then girlfriend was nowhere to be found.
Finally, I stumbled across a group of people whom I did recognise and inquired if they’d seen where she might’ve went.
At this point, I was informed;
“Don’t worry…she crashed at a friend’s place”, they said with undertones of what seemed either drunken yammering or slight passive aggressiveness.
Now…without going into details; I guess we can all agree, I wasn’t a model boyfriend.
I was however, a “realist”; as such it takes no genius guru to figure out, she crashed at a dude’s place she met at the party.
Next day we’d meet up over coffee and she’d confess, “Yeah so…I cheated on you”.
To make light of the situation, my autistic brain thought it’d be a great idea to lighten the mood by complimenting the guy’s charming looks; “He is kinda hot…I’d say!”
If my Sisters had taught me anything, don’t add insult to injury!
…my sisters had also taught me a little secret known as “indifference”.
Utilising the wits of my siblings, I thought it best to just accept the situation.
I was a lousy busy dude, she was a young attractive individual full of life and freedom — two very separate paths we were on.
I wished her well on her journey, and we parted ways.
In this moment though, I kinda wanted to get the last laugh — so I offered to have a parting meal as we bare farewell to one another.
I’d go up to the counter and this lovely young lady would ask what I would like to order today; let’s be honest here, this is what I said…
“…Give me the most inedible piece of shit pizza you guys have on the menu. I want to annoy my ex-girlfriend.”
The lady behind the counter understood all too well, and give me a fulfilling nod; “I got you, kiddo!”
Thus a greasy looking thing emerged, even the waiter was questioning my sanity.
I’d offer the first slice to my princess, and recommend with devilish smile; “Here you go, I’ve heard this is delicious…”
Much to her credit, she did manage to gulp a bite down.
So did I.
The thing was fucking expensive, and I wasn’t going to torture some homeless person by having them have to endure the wrath of my spite.
It finally came down to the last slice, our eyes locked, hands didn’t touch, a stiffness in my shoulders developed, she looked around for an excuse, I looked at her for the final decision…“who gets the last slice?”
At which point, the chemicals in my brain re-ignited and I thought it best to finally let it go…
“You wanna take that away for that hot piece of ass you met last night?”
At which point, she informed me — it was a one time thing, and she’d only done it because I failed as a boyfriend to give her the right time and attention; which I do admit, was kinda in the ballpark of being correct.
Hence, that lonely slice of pizza would sit there and rot as too would I; in my room following the days after as I shuffled on my Spotify playlist of all the greatest hits of breakup songs…
Goo Goo Dolls — Iris.
The Fray — You Found Me.
Plain White T’s — Here there Delilah.
Death Cab for Cutie — Transatlanticism.
Manchester Orchestra — Colly Strings.
The All-American Rejects — It Ends Tonight.
Green Day — Time of your life.
Jimmy Eat World — Hear you me.
…and a few pathetic more to drown my sorrow.
My housemates and their lovely counterparts did their best to fix this lonely soul, and assured me; “Life goes on, bud…get out of that bedroom and let’s order up some Pizza! You pick the flavours. No Pineapples.”
It’s 2019 now, and I’d be attending their joint weddings next year.
It’s been a while since I’ve really sat down and thought about how “pizza” would be the thing that would go on to define my perspective of relationships. But maybe that’s why I’m still single.
All is well, that ends well.
Story time over, Thanks for reading!