Wake Of Saturday

Hanging up my phone on a "he said she said" conversation with a girl whom I drunkenly made out with at a stupid metal head party, I jumped on my carpet couch. Damn it was awful as hell being lonely. It's cold as balls outside and my lousy car won't start. I flipped over on my stomach and picked up my copy of "The Old Man And The Sea" and started to flip through the novel which I keep forgetting to return to my library. One quote really caught my eye,

"Every day is a new day. It is better to be lucky. But I would rather be exact. Then when luck comes you are ready."

Damn I was ready for some luck.

At this point my hangover headache blossomed into a full migrate and the worst was that I was starving.

I called out to my mom to make me a sandwich only to remember I live on my own. That stung man. I picked up my phone and started to punch in the number of my local pizza place.

"Hello, this is Chicago Lake Pizza. May I take your order?"

This kids voice was so tired. Felt bad. But not enough to not order.

"Hello?"

"Sorry. Yeah hi. Can I get a large pepperoni pizza and two pops. Coke. Delivery please."

I knew I just ruined that poor kids night driving out in nearly a foot and a half of snow.

"Will that be all sir?"

Sir? Do I sound like much of an old man?

"Yeah that's it."

"Alright that'll be $12.35. It'll take maybe close to an hour because of the snow. Your address?"

I gave him my address and hung up the phone. Got an hour to kill huh? Might as well go shower. Don't really enjoy smelling like a damp bar. Stammering up my wooden, creaky, stairs. I took off my hoodie and jeans before even getting to the bathroom. I stripped completely down and turn on the hot water while taking out my flat iron out of it's usual place. I dyed my bangs bright red last week. God almighty, I looked like the biggest fucken moron.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I tuned off the water, grabbed my towel of the rack, and began staking my head to rid the water. Looking out my small window, I noticed that it started to snow pretty damn hard. Almost disregarding it, I started to blow dry my hair and began to straighten it shortly after. Still wrapped in my towel, I made it to my bedroom and put on my flannel pants with a loose red t-shirt. *Ding ding ding*

"Oh hell yes..." I whispered under my breath. I love pizza so goddamn much. I rushed down stairs and grabbed my money before opening my front door. I saw the kid who was delivering my pizza. Not going to lie, he caught my attention.

"Hello sir. Here's your pizza."

"Yeah hey thanks man."

I took the box with the pop on top and set it on the floor and thought I wanted to be bold. Might as well live up to my hair.

"Here's the money. Keep the change. But it looks really bad out there, you wanna sit it out here cause you're not going to get very far out there."

He sort of shuffled around and contemplated it for a few seconds.

"It seems like you're the only light on in Chicago so why not? The name's Patrick."

I opened the door wider and let him in. What the hell was I doing? What was he doing? I could be a murderer! Dumb kid. But I did take an interest in him. He was short, kind of like me. He was wearing this light blue cardigan and a black sweater underneath with a black baseball cap which read "Chicago is on fire".