For the Love of Pizza Mart
How about Friday night? When I walked through Adam’s Morgan with my wet bathing suit on, solely to get to pizza mart-home of jumbo slice pizza.
I double book myself intentionally. It gives me great opportunity to get together with multiple groups of friends in one night. It also makes up for the fact that I won’t feel as obligated to go out the next weekend. It makes sense that if I went out multiple times the previous weekend I don’t have to go out the next weekend. Regardless, I double booked and used a colleague’s going away party to sit and chat with co workers and drink a bottle of shiraz.
I enjoy parties and the whole debauchery of it all; the gathering of a group of drunk people out to have a good time. But what I find to be more stimulating is the one on one conversations that I have when drunk. Nothing is kept secret. No stone goes unturned. And I end up drunk and happy. But I digress.
Back to me and friends drunk and talking about work and my future at my place of employment. Back to me being picked up and placed into a fountain taking shots of whisky. Back to me wondering towards the metro at 12:30 headed for my next engagement.
With my bathing suit in hand I was ready for a little hot tubbing. Now would be a good time to explain my friend Steph. Steph who hosted this little dress up as your favorite or least favorite republican luau. She believes that going topless in a hot tub is a proper thing to do, and really who am I to disagree. Steph et.al. hot-tubbed, while I drank more and decided to slip in as well (with my bathing suit top on by the way).
Which leads us to me in Adam’s Morgan with a wet bathing suit on desperately headed towards Pizza Mart. When I’m drunk anywhere near Adam’s Morgan, Pizza Mart is my passion. Gooey giant slices of cheese pizza that I WILL eat without the help of others. So there I was with my wet bathing suit on and a blue polo dress (it possibly looked like I was lactating). Walking through the ghetto of Columbia Heights to Adam’s Morgan in the dark. Alone. For Pizza Mart. Once I got my pizza I headed towards Connecticut Avenue. Of course I’m thinking “It’s late, I’m not going to see anyone I know”. My drunk ass walking down the street stuffing my face with pizza and there I find Graham Murphy, a close friend from High School, also touring Adam’s Morgan. I stopped him. Said hello. And just kept on walking.
Wet ass and all. But at least I had my pizza.