It was a dreary and rainy morning. The rain came down in grey sheets, and the shop was empty. I was alone, left to my thoughts. I pondered why people do the things they do. What makes a man order a pie with extra cheese with light sauce? Or what makes a peckerwood tip nothing for a large order? I'm not quite sure, but it keeps me up at night.
I was in the back room cutting tomatoes when I heard the ringing of a bell, that signaled someone entering. I stepped into the front to great the customer. She was dressed in a crumpled sweatshirt and black yoga pants that clung to her calves. Her face was plain and but something about the dame's expression made me excited. She watched me with tired eyes, like a kitten that was trying to stay awake.
"Good Morning!" I said with a practiced smile, "What can I do for you this rainy morning?"
"I need a pizza." She spoke with a kind of grace that rivaled a ballet dancer's footwork.
"Someone always comes to me with such problems," I muttered, "What kind of pie would you like?"
"I'll have a large cheese." Ah the Big Cheese. That's how things always started. It was either that or one of the specialty pies that they asked for.
"Would you like anything else on it?" I inquired. There was always something more.
"No that will be it," she said. That couldn't be it. There is always something more to pizza orders.
"Alright," I began to jot down the order.
"Could I have a large soda as well?" she asked.
"Of course." I said. As I said, things are never as they seem.
"That will be fifteen bucks," I said. She didn't seem fazed by the price and she reached into her purse and slid me the dough. I counted it and thanked her.
"It'll be ready in about twenty minutes."
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