Pizza Delivery

      I didn't think ordering a pizza would be such a life-changing move.

      I was home alone, and with empty pantries and lifeless refrigerator I figured a pizza wouldn't hurt. I don't really like making phone calls, but hey.

      So the pizza lady came. She looked like she was in her 30's, but with her pink-dyed mohawk and ripped jeans, she portrayed herself as a high school dropout as she asked for my money while smacking on her gum. I speechlessly handed her my money, and she said, "It's strange how many different people you have to be in the course of a day." Bewildered, I smirked and gave a smart-aleck remark, "Ha, why? Not if you're yourself." 
       "I don't think it really works like that."
       "How so?"
       "At least not for me."
        And before I knew it, we were sitting on the porch, chatting under the vast night sky. I discovered that she had an IQ of 139 - one thin point from the cutoff of genius. And as the end result, she had "pretty extensive mental bandwidth" (processing, memory, etc.) that led her to want to talk to strangers absolutely everywhere - in lines at grocery stores and banks and gas stations, all day at her job, on the sidewalk, in the park, in an elevator. I told her I wish I could do the same, but that the awkward silences that lead to forceful conversation fillers are just dreadful to me. But she told me, "There is definitely a process of separating the wheat from the chaff - and maybe only 5% are of real quality." I guess some people could be duds, but you're never going to encounter that 5% if you don't look for them.

        She's been to all 50 states in USA, and loves to always hear something different and never knowing where a conversation is going to go when she starts. She had a somewhat pompous nature of constantly talking about her own life with her "I think I am exceptionally good at writing," "You know, I just do stuff like that sometimes. Hold doors open for people, pick stuff up when they drop it, grab runaway animals or give people directions," and "I'm on my 25th job! Try to wrap your head around that one!" but I had never met anyone who exemplifies "carpe diem" as much as her. With stories after stories, she lives her life listening to people with different interests, experiences, and lifestyles. That's why she has to become all these different people in the course of a day; in order to talk all these strangers, that's what you need to do. 

         I was almost jealous of her and disgusted by my staying in my room all day with my MacBook. There are so many untold stories out there in this enormous, yet tiny world. Just by walking through a downtown street, I would probably pass by a dozen beautiful autobiographies and some hilarious jokes. With my one and only life I get to live, I'm doing nothing but suffocating myself from fully living this short life. 

        I watched her drive off on her motorbike upon wishing each other a fond farewell. Never did I think I would learn so much from a mohawked, thirty year old stranger. I don't even know her name.

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August 7, 2011: Non-Fiction #1 / Short Story #4 / What's Hot #106

Thank you all for reading this short story!!  :D