And That's How I Came to Be Seated Next to That Dumpster at That Time on That Day
I had left my office in the banking tower and the day was like any other cold, snowy day. But I had a burning inside of me; I had a hunger. But I was of two minds or maybe two stomachs-- either, way, I trudged past the parking garage and headed toward the pizza wagon, whose flattened, torn up tires sat half-covered with snow. I ordered a "Tiny Pie," which was delivered piping hot and not in slice form, but as a tiny circle. I finished it hastily, but still felt this hole in my belly-- my other belly, as it were.
The next day, I had left my office in the tower the same as the previous day and wishing to fill that still ravenous hole in my gut, I went to Rodrigo's burrito wagon, whose own flattened, torn up tires sat completely buried in snow, as another four inches had fallen the night before and besides, I believe the burrito wagon was a little lower to the ground to begin with. I obtained my burrito and like some beast whose prey was more amenable than expected, I abstained from wildly gnashing and clawing and tore gently with my teeth, letting the chunks of the oblong wrap tumble down my throat and into my belly. Like the day before, I was left unsatisfied.
This was the proof I needed to know it was more than a mere psychological obsession that drove my need for the two foods, but was in fact two distinct bellies, neither of which could ever be satisfied at the same time, it would seem. Well, unless I ordered them at the same time and consumed them. So the next day, trudging through the snow, I did just that. However, as one belly would end up satisfied before the other belly, the neglected one would, how do I say it, just shut down. So any attempt to force a burrito down after a pizza or vice-versa was met with three hours of painful, off-and-on vomiting in the darkened corners of the parking garage.
There is another option, of course, and since I know you're smart, I know you've already thought of it. But you see, as I attempted to take a bite here of this and take a bite there of that, it would create a war inside of me, between my two guts. This war, like any other war, would end up messy and yes, with me vomiting for three hours in the parking garage.
So, yes, at the very exact same time, correct? I did try this, but I was born with an abnormally small mouth. It's been commented on by nearly every girlfriend I had ever had and even my own mother would give me this look that could only mean she was contemplating how she could have a son with such a tiny, baby-like mouth. And not helping this small mouth any is the fact that I still have normal, adult-sized teeth and what I've also been told, a rather large tongue. So, there's only so much room in there and I am afraid attempting to mush the two together just didn't work at all, as the necessary quantities to satisfy my two bellies couldn't be met by my tiny mouth.
For two months I was driven mad by a constant, insatiable need for a burrito and a pizza pie. It was on the first day of Spring that my madness broke me and the rupture in my brain caused a brilliant idea to spill forth. I hurried to the pizza pieman and I purchased a pie and then I hurried to the burrito wagon and bought a burrito. I spilled the contents of the burrito into the pie and I rolled the pizza until the chorizo and rice began to gush out the open ends of the pizza. I then began to eat and for the first time since I discovered that I actually had two warring bellies, I was at peace. I sat in the alley next to the burrito wagon and I shared my peace and a bit of my pizzrito with a mangy pup who I took to calling "David the Dog." And that's how I came to be seated next to that dumpster at that time on that day.
