MADISON
"kait, no, listen. you're wrong, okay? pineapples do not belong on pizza, and olives definitely do.", i argued with my best friend, kaitlin, over the phone.
we were having a sleepover later tonight, and we planned to make our own pizzas.
the only problem was, we didn't exactly know how to make pizzas.
well, that, and the huge toppings debate we were having.
"have you ever tried pineapple pizza?", kait asked on the other end, and i could mentally see her questioning eyebrow raise.
"well, no. but have you ever tried olives on pizza?", i question back.
she sighs.
"get olives and pineapple then, we can make our own since it's obvious we can't decide one one or the other."
"ugh, okay. fine."
who puts pineapples on pizza?
why?
after we end the call, i head to get the dough. then the sauce. the cheese, the pepperoni, sausage, pineapple, and finally the last stop, olives.
i wanted to get a pretty good sized jar, because i'm one of those people who have to have every inch of my pizza covered. plain dough is repulsive to me.
i push the buggy to the correct aisle, and immediately notice that it's empty, other than a boy who looked a few years older than me.
"it's only empty because people don't know good toppings when they see them.", i mumble to myself and roll my eyes slightly.
i'm guessing the guy near me heard, because he looked towards me.
"oh, yeah. tell me about it. my brother sent me to get these disgusting things. like, who eats olives on pizza? it's disgusting.", he says.
i'm taken aback.
i am flabbergasted.
"ex-excuse me?", i say as i gasp and put my hand to my heart dramatically.
"see, you're smart yourself. you've got the golden topping. literally.", he looks down towards the items in my cart.
"what?", i ask.
"pineapple, duh. the only thing that actually goes on pizza."
"ugh. you're one of..those..people.", i scoff.
"what?"
"my best friend, she thinks pineapple belongs on pizza too. that,", i point towards the pineapple, "is for her. personally,", i pause and wait for his name.
"ethan.", he says.
"well, personally, ethan, i find it gross. and, your brother's the smart one. olives are the way to go."
"but see,", he waits for my name.
"madison."
"madison, that's where you're wrong. it absolutely does belong. olives, however, do not. they never will. pineapple is an unmatchable topping on pizza, and you and my brother will always be wrong."
i snicker.
"okay."
i grab a jar of my favorite olives and put them in my cart. without saying a word, i wheel it away, leaving ethan alone on the aisle once again.
"woah, woah, woah. wait, madison. can i get your num--", he asks as i'm walking away.
"nope!", i yell back.
