When you live next to a pizza place, your decision making process for meals becomes infinitely easier. I could put on shoes, walk to the grocery store, spend a minimal fortune on mislabeled organic produce, walk back, cook something, accumulate dirty dishes, and eat the leftovers for weeks because cooking for one is hard (especially with a mother that always cooked enough food to feed rural African villages. My portion judgment is a little skewed).
I could even do the above, but drive instead, cutting travel time in half.
Or. I could walk the 19 feet to the pizza place, most likely sans shoes (and bra) because they know me, and I ain’t trying to impress anyone anymore.
I’ll get my usual slice and side salad. With ranch. And extra ranch. And toss the box for easy cleanup. Dumped into a garbage can that is already filled to the brim with identical pizza boxes from everyone else in my building. It comforts me to know I am not alone. The struggle is real.
The Uplands: the presenting Sponsor of Pizza Luce in Uptown. Keeping your favorite, local pizza joint in business since 1999. And drunkenly entertaining (annoying?) your employees from midnight to 3 am.
I’ve formed a special bond with the Pizza Luce crew. Once I popped over for a beer before a party, stopped by for a slice after the party, and then appeared again with a friend an hour later so she could get her slice post-party. Three times was enough to warrant questions from Mario. I can’t make this stuff up. His name really is Mario and he makes pizza. Mario now makes me swans out of tin foil to cover my ranch when I visit. There is some under-appreciated talent in this world. I tell ya.
I think an ultimate low (high?) point was using a Pizza Luce delivery driver for a ride home. What’s even worse – this was premeditated and planned. Ashley wanted pizza. I wanted to go home to my bed. So our brilliant solution was to order her a pizza, and then
force politely ask the driver to give me a lift back to the motherland (approximately 9 blocks away). He said it wasn’t the weirdest request he has ever gotten, but it was up there. I hope Ashley tipped him well…
Sometimes I get really ambitious and pre-order a meatball sub for pick up, rather than do the by-the-slice approach. But even that takes some serious planning – and contradicts the ease of having Pizza as a neighbor. I want what I want, when I want it. And 99% of the time, that is pizza.
Basically all I care about is pizza, and like two people. Mario being one of them.
In my previous post, I talked a lot about my involvement in the yoga community in Madison. I think I’ve become an integral part of the pizza community here in Minneapolis. I’m not that upset about it. Maybe Pizza Luce will sponsor my pizza tattoo. Brand ambassador for life, yo!