Pizza Makes Everything Better…
Never accept a sliding scale date, never accept “maybes” always accept a ❤️shaped pizza– Notoriouslysinglegirl
“Where did you learn how to cook?” Asked a friend one day while we were just whipping something up in his chefs kitchen.
“I’m Italian, so it must be somewhere in my DNA!” I answered.
I do love to cook. Yes I have many talents. Some of them I’m probably not allowed to publicly discuss but I can talk about the cooking one, so that’s what I’ll focus on.
Where do I begin…?
Well both my parents can cook. My dad bakes Bread. My mom makes focaccia. They’ve both made pizza.
Yes, it’s true I once worked at a bakery. We occasionally made pizza. And I’m not sure when the last time was that I actually made a “real” full blown pizza for myself?
I didn’t make bread or whatever else was trending at the height of this pandemic … and this occasion warranted a home made pizza…
I try hard not to put the men I date on blast, but this one warrants a “blast” and if anyone reads this, I hope you get some insight.
“Men are clueless!” My friend Gary replied after I shared with him some strange text messages.
“Wow, and you cook too. They don’t deserve it!” Quipped my 27 yr old cousin Michele.
The text messages came after 6 months of pursuit. One casual encounter that I never thought would go anywhere, which only ended up in a relentless pursuit.
Yes it’s true men pursue women for sex. But 6 months? That’s called obsession.
The excuses that I heard in these 6 months of pursuit ranged from: I’m traveling oversees, oh it’s Covid I hope you’re well and still alive, I’ve moved in with my mother, no I can’t see you and leave my mother she might get the COVID19, oh now the riots are happening, and then the text
Let’s get together on Friday night!
Well, at this point I was not placing all my bets on “Friday night!” It was a sucker bet. A long shot.
And of course I was expecting some type of cataclysm like locusts, aliens landing, or the world to be blown up by nuclear warheads.
None of those happened. But after I bought my essential pizza dough at Monte Carlo deli ( yes I cheated on the dough) I texted to confirm and the response was :
“ I’m taking a client out to dinner. I’ll be over around 9ish.”
😳that emoji is appropriate.
I really have no words. Except I just texted “ that won’t work for me. I’ve just made some other plans!” As every human being on the planet should text someone who is an obsessive bullshit stalker.
“Maybe Saturday or Sunday then?”
I’m sorry. If you are reading this and think I’m a total bitch, well congratulations! It’s 2020, we are in the middle of a pandemic and in case you haven’t been paying attention… it’s literally the apocalypse! Yes, I’m a B I T C H!
There’s no time for “maybes!” Hell there’s no time for bullshit!
Of course I got many more excuses like “ I didn’t know there was a set time? Maybe we should stop talking!and my favorite “ you know I think you’re a rockstar!”
Hmmm rockstar? Well in that case yes… yes come over when ever… I’m open 24 hours?
Nope … that didn’t happen.
On the verge of the world ending the above behavior is unacceptable!
So what’s an Italian girl to do but just make a sausage, mushroom ( sautés w/ butter garlic parsley &marsala) parmigiano and mozzarella cheese. Sprinkle some red pepper flakes… and there you go!
You can also pour yourself some gin and San pellegrino aranciata … and you got some instant heaven.
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