Rich Overhearing At The Pizza Joint Downtown

Best line of the day:  Why do you care what happens in Turkey?  This is Pittsburgh.

Yours truly at a crappy Formica table crunching pizza, sweating like Ma Rainey, hearing what's said, the cashier/server asked the universal of someone or other, don't care who, but I heard something to suggest family 'over there' and I would have loved to find out the whole package of people and places.   I got a few specks and shards.  I think the guy who cared about Turkey needed to get back to work on pizza, and I lost radio contact with the gent.  

And then the trombones and trumpets that only whisperers hear  presented their impromptu clarions and sound boffs.   The cashier who raised the most important question of the century, the one people pay gurus and institutions for, turned chatter to her work mate, and two young working women talked about a recent birth.  Not only did the broad toss out enlightenment for free, she had dropped the kid she had been carrying for my past nine months of eating pizza a few times a week there.  Good pizza.  Good to hear of a successful birth, though yours truly has  a scant gustatory relationship of getting pizza, choking it down, and fucking off. A nicer fucker might say it speaks to the family of man/woman/universe.   Even a total ass fuck might agree.   Costs nothing to live in the present, and all Bhudists should give a whistling locomotive on that.  The  Pizza Broad deserves greater honors than Bhuda, because she's here, and he might as well be in Turkey.  Case, of enlightenment, closed.

The Pizza Broad delivered

the most important message in human history, to live in the present and to work with what is here. I overheard some particulars about the zip to the hospital, leaving against medical advice, getting bitched at by a nurse, and sounds like the kid's just fine. Medical services can be brusque in the land of soda cups and cig wrappers in the weeds. The elements that raise respect in guys, for women, were gushing out of the bev dispenser. I fizzed like a soft drink for the human spirit. The pizza was grand as always. 

As intimated, and...

.....it was none of my fucking business from moment one, I'd noticed the progress of the Pizza Broad's pregnancy when folding my slice with pepperoni. Passing curiosity can be a little bastard, in a goofy man's mind, and some of it got answered, along with the need for presence. I overheard that it was her boy friend's kid as well as hers. This brought me greater schmuckoid benedictions from the hot pre-summer sun. Marriage is the leading cause of devitalization. And a bastard has greater vitality than some snotty middle class prick born into the married middle class. I went to high school. I still hate it. Out of wedlock is out of the institution of marriage, which jibes lovely with my dislike for institutions. This was a great day on which to get a slice of pizza, with pepperoni.   I can't help adoring women who spite institutions.