The year was 1990 something and I walked into the first day of my 2nd grade class. The teacher started explaining that we will be doing a small exercise to get acquainted with her, and the rest of the class. We each took turns telling our: name, favorite subject, favorite color, and favorite food. When it got around to me I explained myself and told the class my favorite food was pizza. This wasn’t much of a shock because everyone said that pizza was their favorite food, it must have had something to do with Chuck E Cheese. I remember pizza day was the craziest day in the cafeteria and my classmates and I would have eaten pizza for any meal of the day.
Naturally, when my mother asked what I wanted for breakfast I would say “Pizza” and she said “No, pizza is not for breakfast, you’re not allowed.” The concept of pizza for breakfast was about as badass to me as, staying up after midnight or learning a new curse word. Fuck…I really wanted pizza for breakfast. I dreamt of the day when the sun light would fill the room and the birds would jovially chirp as I ate pizza with my morning cartoons.
Now, the date is October 20th, 2013 and I just woke up from a long night of drinking. I grab the cup of water next to my bed and take a big sip. I take off my shoes, a task typically done before bed that I couldn’t manage to do the night before . I stand up, my head pounds and a throbbing pain shoots through my body. I make the quest to the sink, start the water, and begin drinking directly from the faucet. My stomach settles and I realize its time for breakfast, I’m starving. A search through the fridge yields cream cheese with no bagels, a bottle of Sriracha, 3 Milwaukee’s best ice, and some sort of indian food which has clearly been there for weeks. I sit down on the couch, and there it is, the half eaten pizza my drunken self had ordered the night before. I open the box, and with the least bit of self-respect, eat pizza for breakfast. What had once been a dream of mine, over a decade ago, had finally came into fruition. However, it was not the liberating experience I had once dreamed of, it was a clear indicator that I had given up the one piece of dignity I had left.
Forsakenbookclub 