Nausea and Domino’s

You guys? I love Domino’s.

I mean, I hate Domino’s. Because I grew up in the 90s. Which means that I am well aware that Domino’s is the shittiest pizza of all the pizza in the entire history of pizza.

That’s why they almost went out of business and then came back at the 11th hour (last month) to have one more go at not sucking the most in their game.

And they actually are doing better.

Marginally.

They’re still no match for real pizza.

Like Napoli’s.

But they’re inching upward. As a violently dedicated opponent of all things Pizza Hut, and only an occasional purchaser of the Little Scissors hot and ready gut explosion of death because kids, and karate, and exhaustion, I can tell you that Domino’s is not the worst pizza to exist in this town.

That honor belongs to Pizza Hut, now that Surrena’s closed down (I’m sorry everyone on the Knopf side of the family, I know you loved Surrena’s, but I’ve loved you in spite if all your bad decisions and this one is no different).

Part, I think, of what I love so much about Domino’s now is that it has become a great big old nostalgia wagon right back to every time my family or friends ordered shitty Domino’s pizza in the 90s.

I have a soft spot in my wasted heart for the big D now (shut up, you disgusting perv) and I get all squishy (shut up, shut up, for the love of Jesus shut up) now anytime I order it.

And so tonight, it being the first night the girls will be staying with little grandma in a few weeks, as Mike’s brother visiting from California meant that he didn’t have anywhere to spend the night while they stayed there, I decided to treat myself to some shitty pizza and rent a movie.

I mean, demand a movie. Because what kind of a lunatic still watches films on actual physical media anymore?

I mean really.

So I ordered my Domino’s online, a pizza and wings because fuck it, and the pizza tracker informed me that I needed to show up in 21 minutes to pick up my delicious, shitty meal.

Which is precisely what I did, because I am obedient above all else.

Unless you’re my therapist.

You can’t make me take karate, Joel! If you want me to stand up to people I will start with you. You did this to yourself. And am not indirectly hostile. I think I’m pretty damn direct about it.

So.

Shut up.

I waited another 20 minutes at the pizza dispensary to collect my shitty meal, once I got there.

I watched them serve like seven people because they said my wings still weren’t done.

And you wanna know what finally happened? Forty minutes after my 20 minute meal was ordered, they told me that someone must have given my wings to someone else because they were history. Straight up, there were no wings in my future.

Which is actually fine.

Because that right there is what I expect when I go to Domino’s. Because Domino’s sucks, and that is exactly why the fuck I go there.

It’s all terribly, terribly good.

So now I’m home, with a cold shitty pizza, and I go to take the first bite and I realize that my nausea, which has remained the one constant of the whole day, is still a thing.

I found a stash of Zofran and I’ve been eating it for days, but I ate the last bite this afternoon and still, I remain sick.

It’s like I’m on a boat.

But not in the good way.

Not in the Lonely Island way.

I am so, so not doing flips and shit, you guys. This sucks.

I hate nausea. I thought it was just related to the whole disease thing my kid brought home, but no.

No, I’m just nauseated all of the time now. But I’m a woman. Who has had anxiety in the past.

That’s right, I said in the past. Stop looking at me. If you think this is anxiety you should have met me three years ago homie.

This is positively stoned, comparatively speaking.

But let’s just give her some antiemetics we’d give cancer patients, on an indefinite basis, and send her away.

She’s clearly just insane.

Whatever.

At least I can lay in bed and hork at the thought of my shitty pizza while I watch The Last Jedi.

I want a lightsaber.

And a wookie.

I want a wookie companion to have adventures with.

I think I want to be Han Solo, you guys.

Wanna talk about how, in the entire Star Wars universe, I pick the one non-human living main character to identify with? Or would it only be concerning if I weren’t to pick the only living non-human main character to identify with? Honestly, that would represent a real deviation from established personality worth worrying about.

Night night, kids.

And may the force be with you.

And sucky, sucky Domino’s.

2 thoughts on “Nausea and Domino’s

  1. We are apparently totally kindred spirits, because Domino’s is apparently the only pizza that delivers to us. We know it’s bad, but…delivery. Also, now gluten-free crust so I can be slightly less nauseous and bloaty for having eaten terrible pizza. Guess what we have for our specific dinner and our movie tonight? Also, I’m dizzy from overheating and nearly fainting at the hair stylist tonight, not nauseous, but close enough?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, girl! High five for blog twins! You’re kidding me, Domino’s and Jedis where you are too? I love it!! And yes, vertigo counts. Absolutely. Wanna take it one step farther? My cousin is a salon owner and I went to get my Domino’s after stopping to hang out at the salon tonight. Bam. We both need to go buy a lottery ticket!

      Liked by 1 person

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