I have a confession to make. I am a very fat man who loves food. It's true. I eat lots of unhealthy food all the time, and then I write about my experiences in Jerks of the Week. There... I said it.
Now, you may counter by pointing out that I've written about my frequent trips to Saladworks and my goal of losing a tenth of a pound each week. The truth of the matter is that I still buy fast food on weekends, and I haven't finished a mile in the pool in about half a year, thanks to a severe case of lethargy.
You know, it feels good to come clean. Now I know how drug addicts feel. The first step is admitting that you have a problem, so here I am.
Why am I bringing this up now? Well it's becoming a big issue, and it got worse when I went down the shore and stuffed my face with unnecessary (but delicious) calories. It got even worse when I returned home. You see, they opened up a Little Caesars right around the corner from my house. It literally takes three minutes to walk there. That's where this story of my pizza gluttony begins...
I used to love Little Caesars as a kid. It didn't top Station Pizza, the awesome local pizza joint near my parents' house, but it was a nice change-of-pace option. Unfortunately, the Little Caesars in my neighborhood closed down, so my sister and I weren't able to eat there for quite a while.
Fast forward 15 or so years later. Now, I live in a development right outside of Philadelphia. The development used to be a golf course, so I frequently find golf balls in my backyard. There was nothing around us at first, but they built a Bottom Dollar and then a Dunkin Donuts. Next, they constructed a decently sized strip with six stores. No one knew what these stores would be for a while, but we finally had our answer in May:
1. Frozen Yogurt Place: I'm not a big fan of frozen yogurt. Yogurt is healthy, so it's a big turn-off for me.
2. Verizon Distributor: I have Verizon service, so I suppose this is useful.
3. A Kids' Haircut Place: Kids bring nothing but disease and misery, so I'm offended by this.
4. A Kids' Clothing Store: Great! More disease and more misery for me! Why are these developers so selfish? They only think about themselves and all of the parents and all of the children. What about me!?
5. Larry's Steaks: I'm not sure who Larry is, but he's opening a cheesesteak joint within walking distance from my house. Thank you, Larry!
6. Little Caesars: NOM NOM NOM NOM!!!
I immediately alerted my sister about this. I anticipated that she would be quite excited, but that was not the case.
Me: Hey, they opened a Little Caesars right around the corner from my house!
My Sister: So?
Me: So? So!? What do you mean so!?
My Sister: Little Caesars sucks now.
Me: How dare you say such things?
My Sister: It used to be great, but now they changed everything. They make it before you get there so you can just pick it up, but it tastes like microwave pizza.
Undaunted, I wanted to prove my sister wrong. Prior to the preseason games one Saturday evening in August, I took a stroll down to Little Caesars. I passed by a hot woman with blond hair, but she was with her son in front of the kids' haircut place. Muttering swear words under my breath, I entered Little Caesars.
There were five people or so in line. This pissed me off. How dare these a**holes come into my neighborhood and invade my Little Caesars? I thought. They should stop being selfish and let me in front of them. Why is everyone so damn selfish!?
Fortunately, the line moved pretty quickly. Someone would walk up to the counter and say, "I want two large pepperoni pizzas" or something, and the black chick with the missing teeth at the register would just hand them their pies. This girl didn't seem too bright, by the way. Consider this exchange:
Black Chick with Missing Teeth: Somebody just orda three pizza! I gonna need three more pizza up front!
Person Yelling from the Back: What kind!?
Black Chick with Missing Teeth: Gimme one plains and one pepperonis!
Person Yelling from the Back: What about the third one?
Black Chick with Missing Teeth: Whatchu talkin' bout?
Person Yelling from the Back: One plain, one pepperoni and what's the third one?
Black Chick with Missing Teeth: I don't need no third one!
She did say she needed three pizzas, right? I thought for a second that I was so hungry that I was imagining things, but it quickly became clear that she was, in fact, completely stupid. When she asked for $5.30 for my large pepperoni pizza, I handed her a $5 bill, a quarter and a nickel. She stared at the change with a dumb expression on her face, and said the following:
Black Chick with Missing Teeth: Dis don't come out to $5.30.
Me: What? It's five dollars plus 25 cents plus five cents.
Black Chick with Missing Teeth: Oh, sorry it's been a long day, I thought you got a quata and a dimes.
Umm... so wouldn't that exceed the $5.30 I was due? What an idiot.
I exited Little Caesars. The milf and her child were still there. The kid was rummaging through the trash can, so the milf had to pull him out.
"DON'T GO INTO THE TRASH CAN!" she shouted. "RATS CRAWL THROUGH THERE SO YOU'LL GET SICK!"
Like I said, misery and disease.
The 3-minute walk back to my house seemed like an eternity because I couldn't wait to stuff the Little Caesars' pizza into my mouth. I carried the box upstairs, sat down at my desk, took out a slice, and bit off a third of it.
It was... umm... not very good... it actually tasted like microwave pizza. The sauce was watery, while the cheese was kind of hard. The dough didn't taste good either.
So, what did I do? Did I throw out the pizza and head over to Saladworks? Well, that would be the sensible thing to do. However, I'm not very sensible. I would end up eating the entire pie. Like I said, I'm a fat man who loves food.
Personal Swim Coach:
Even though I've been undisciplined in terms of finishing my workouts, I still want to at least maintain my weight. Given that I devoured an entire pepperoni pizza Saturday evening, I wanted to make up for it by swimming Sunday morning.
I arrived at my new gym, but it took me five minutes to park my car because this blonde woman wearing a green dress and her kid were walking in front of me and didn't have the awareness to move, even when I honked my horn. The woman didn't seem to know where she was going, so she was a bit distracted. She was still in the parking lot by the time I got out of my car. I ended up walking behind her, and I noticed that she had a terrific body, which would be a factor later on.
Anyway, I got changed and walked out onto the pool deck. Green Dress Milf was there, as her kid was about to take swim lessons. Another parent, a chubby bald Russian guy in his late 30s, approached me as I was putting on my goggles.
Chubby Bald Guy: You now going to svim von lap busserfly and von lap freestyle.
Chubby Bald Guy: Go svim busserfly now and zen freestyle. Svim fast!
I don't know why I listened to this guy. Maybe it was the guilt I felt from eating a large pepperoni pizza. Perhaps I wanted to impress Green Dress Milf. Or it could be because this dude was so convincing. I dived into the pool and swam a lap of butterfly as fast as I could.
A slight background on swimming: Butterfly - not busserfly - is the stroke where you use both arms. It's recommended that you warm up before attempting it. I obviously didn't do that, so it didn't surprise me at all when my shoulder hurt like a b***h after finishing one lap. I swam back in pain. Chubby Bald Guy greeted me with compliments.
"You svim good! You svim fast! Great job!" he shouted.
I would've smiled and thanked him, but I was in too much agony. I tried to keep swimming, but it was extremely painful every time I lifted my right arm out of the water. I had to get out of the pool a few minutes later. Chubby Bald Guy approached me.
Chubby Bald Guy: Vhy you stop svim!? You must svim more busserfly!
Me: My shoulder's killing me.
Chubby Bald Guy: No excuse! Go svim busserfly!
Me: I can't, dude!
Chubby Bald Guy: OK, iz OK. You svim good but you need vork on breezing.
Me: What's wrong with my breathing?
Chubby Bald Guy: You alvways breeze every stroke!
Me: Well, I have asthma, so I kind of need to. Plus, I haven't really swum since college.
Chubby Bald Guy: You svim een college, but you no svim een Olympic! You need practice more to svim een Olympic!
I wanted to reply, "f*** you a**hole," but my main priority was rinsing the chlorine off my body and going home to ice my shoulder. I went into the locker room and stepped into the showers - with my swim trunks on, of course. I was only in there for a few minutes, but this was enough time for Chubby Bald Guy to enter the locker room with his 6-year-old son, who was done his swim lesson. Chubby Bald Guy pointed to me and told his son that I go to college. I corrected him, saying that I used to, and that I graduated in 2006. He was shocked because he thought I looked 22 or 23. He then asked me about college...
Chubby Bald Guy: Vhere you go school?
Me: Penn State.
Chubby Bald Guy: Oh ho! Iz Ivy League school een Philadelphia!
Me: No, that's the University of Pennsylvania. I went to Penn State, which is about an hour west of Harrisburg.
Chubby Bald Guy: Ahhh Penn State! Vhat you study een Penn State?
Chubby Bald Guy: Oh ho! So you write for Philadelphia Daily News or Philadelphia Inquirer?
Me: Nah, I run my own Web site.
Chubby Bald Guy: Oh, iz shame. You need practice more to write een zis big newspaper!
Me: I'm fine with my Web site, actually.
Chubby Bald Guy: Oh, iz shame. You look like you no have vork essic.
What a dick. According to this guy, all I have to do is improve my "vork essic" so I can swim in the Olympics and write for one of the two Philly papers. I wish I would've responded: "Look, a**hole, I don't want to swim five hours every day, and my Web site has more readers than both of those newspapers combined, so my vork essic is just fine, thank you very much!"
Then, I thought about his son. That poor kid is going to have to deal with his dad expecting him to swim in the Olympics and reach the top of his profession, and once he disappoints, his dad will say, "Iz shame, you need improve vork essic." The kid, in turn, will rebel and become a drug addict. He'll inject himself with needles and undoubtedly contract some sort of horrible virus.
For once, I realized that kids might actually have to deal with misery and disease themselves.
My shoulder hurt the following day, but I still went to the gym. I thought I'd try to swim again, but if that didn't work, I could go to the weight room and do some exercises for my rotator cuff.
I hopped into the pool on my own this time - Chubby Bald Guy wasn't there, so I hoped he was rotting in hell where he belongs - and I took my first stroke...
That's what I yelled. People looked at me like I was insane, but I couldn't help it. I was in that much pain. I tried to either kick or swim with one arm, but I quickly realized that it was useless. I got out of the pool, changed and walked over to the weight room.
The gym manager was in the weight room giving a tour. As we shook hands, I noticed that he had a very frustrated expression. He was watching some 18-year-old dude he was giving a tour to. This dude was wandering over to each machine and testing them all out. I found this to be a bit odd, and the gym manager confirmed it when he whispered, "This guy has to inspect every f***ing machine... it's like would ya sign up for a membership already?"
Machine Tester walked away, and the gym manager and I talked a bit about football. Suddenly, he changed topics.
Gym Manager: Who is that woman over there? I've never seen her.
Me: The one in the green tank top? Never seen her before.
Gym Manager: Walt, I checked her out earlier, and I'm telling ya, she has an a** that doesn't quit. Go check her out.
I was too far away to see her a**, so I walked by her a few times, and she did, in fact, have an a** that didn't quit. She was wearing these tight black pants that made her a** not quit even more than it would've not quit in the first place. In fact, her a** didn't quit so much that I couldn't stop from staring at it - and eventually, she noticed. She looked at me with a disgusted expression on her face and turned away.
So, in summary, because I chose to ate Little Caesars, I...
Gained all of the tenths of pounds I lost over the past few months.
Potentially tore my rotator cuff.
Got insulted by a chubby Russian man.
Embarrassed myself at the pool when I yelled like a b***h.
Was looked at as if I were a creeper by the woman whose a** doesn't quit.
The moral of the story? Eat pizza! Bad things may happen, but it's awesome food, so who cares? Trust me, I'm a fat man. This subject is my specialty.