The $40 Pizza, Part Deux

Read part 1, here.

It's a running joke among my family and friends that without Judy, I'd be in big trouble or perhaps, already dead. It had only been 2 hours since she'd left and already I had botched a simple financial transaction and managed to lock myself out of our house.

Why? You might ask, did I not have my key? Because the day before was Halloween and I didn't want a lot of shit in my pockets when we went trick-or-treating. I don't like carrying shit in my pockets. I removed the house key from my keychain and then, I had forgotten to return it.

I put my pizza down on my back porch and secured it in place with some rocks, so that it would not be blown by the wind. I walked down the block to get a spare key from a friend. She's an old woman who lives alone. We hadn't visited her in awhile. She opened the door with a big smile.

She just bought a new car. She proceeded to tell me all about it.

"I mean, you won't believe it. I say 'XM5' and the radio comes on. I mean, isn't that something? Can you believe that? Guess what color it is? 'Midnight Moon!'"

It was clear she hadn't seen another human being, in weeks.

She continued... "It has a 'spoiler' and I told the guy, 'Look, 70 year old women don't need spoilers! HAHA! And he winked at me and said, 'No, but 50 year old women do.' I mean, can you believe that?"

This kind of talk went on for some time while I imagined my pizza getting colder and clammier. Still, there was nothing to be done. I nodded... I said, "Really?" I fixed her printer, hooked up her DVD player and patiently sat as she showed me a number of chain emails she had received in order to help her determine the credibility of each.

"Don't send the money to Nigeria," I cautioned. "I think that one's a fake."

Then we drank some scotch and she showed me nude photographs of herself taken when she was 23 years old.

Anyway, by the time I got out of there, key in pocket, the dwindling light had faded and it was pitch dark. Luckily, I live in a neighborhood that doesn't suffer from excessive lighting. we don't have street lamps and most people don't use obnoxious floodlights to keep their asphalt and grass well lit while they sleep. I walked home, enjoying the stars.

As I neared our house I got excited about my "Mardi Gras" again, even though it would now have to be reheated.

Take a walk at night and you'll notice that your footsteps seem to make more noise than they do during the day. With all of the recently fallen leaves and beech nuts on the ground, I sounded like Autumn itself as I walked up the driveway. However, this peaceful rustling of my feet was soon overtaken by a commotion and a cackling twitter, taking place by my back door.

I stopped to listen. "Hey!" I said, in a stage whisper. There was no answer... I walked closer.

Something ran by me and I noticed a strong odor in the air.

"Tabasco?" I said to the darkness.

My $40 pizza had been eaten by raccoons.

When I got inside I called Judy.

"Please come home," I pleaded.