November 6th 2020

Today was Friday, and on Fridays, I have pizza. It’s become a sort of new tradition. Last Friday you may remember that I tried to order Fat Toni’s, but ended up with Pizza from the Bottle of Sauce. This Friday I just got a pizza meal deal from Tesco.

The 10-pack of Thatchers wasn’t part of the meal deal. I added that. I panicked a bit when I was buying the booze, because I left my wallet at my parent’s house last weekend, so when the woman came over to check my ID, I thought I was done for. Luckily, she asked me to take down my mask to see my face, and I think the beard helped give it away that I was clearly not a 12 year old trying to score some Thatcher’s.

“You have very young eyes,” she said. Thanks, I think.

And so, I escaped for Pizza Fridays. The rightful successor to Mexican Thursdays. Pizza Fridays are great because you’ve just finished a week at work and you don’t want to cook you want to whack something in the oven for 12-15 minutes and then demolish it before the mascarpone has cooled from molten to edible.

Then, you want to wash it down with some trickily acquired Thatcher’s and fuck about on the PlayStation with your friends.

Until tomorrow, and by ‘you’, I mean ‘me’.


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