We've had free pizza for about six straight Fridays now, and it's getting a bit strange. I realize I don't even wait for the email to come anymore; instead, there is a moment wherein I suddenly notice an eerie silence has come over the office, meaning everyone has filed downstairs to the cafe where it's waiting, and I almost pop a hamstring jumping up out of my chair.
Also, the first few weeks I'd feel compelled to act surprised when I walked in - "oh, pizza? Really? Oh! Well, I guess I'll save the vending machine salad for another time!" And as I was tearing a slice away and half the cheese got stuck to the mothership, I'd just shrug like it was no big deal and leave it. "Too much cheese anyways; I prolly won't even finish this whole slice anyway!"
By now I'm clawing into the box with my hand, scraping up all the cheese that's rightfully mine; I'm surprised I don't wipe up all the grease with the crust. I'm guessing I'm a week away from just sticking my face in the thing, and about three from dragging my balls over an entire pie*, marking my territory.
* hey, I did it! Hooray!
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