Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Say pizza pizza, you blind mouse you

I’ve said before that my parents have worked extremely hard to provide for us, and the only things I’ve ever had to do without are things like tats and belly button rings. Although my folks always made sure we had more than what we needed, they definitely were always happy to get a cheaper deal…if there is one thing they instilled in me, it was that there is ALWAYS a better deal to be had. Case in point (and the subject of the hilarious phone conversation with my mom as we were recounting it. She called me up to tell me she was going to get new sunglasses and I suggested she go to the place I am about to describe to you).

When I was in 10th grade, it became apparent I needed spectacles. At this point, needing glasses was similar to needing braces in middle school: everyone wanted them. I guess they made you cool? And we all know, in high school, I was the very definition of cool. So I strained and strained until my eyeballs couldn’t take it anymore and I had to get glasses. I was forced to look cool. And smart. Similar to a sexay librarian was I. Always wanting to save money, my mom took me to this place in the ghetto (really, it may or may not have been the ghetto then, but it is definitely the ghetto now) and told me I had to find my glasses there. Everything in the store was $30, lens, frames, the whole shebang. This glasses place was famous because everything in their store was 30 green daddies. Now, when you’re in 10th grade and you’re income depends on lifeguarding and being the janitor at your dad’s law firm, you don’t want to spend your own money, so you take what you can get. But, when you’re in 10th grade, and everyone says “ohhh you’re dad is a LAWYER” to you, you tend to assume that 30 bucks isn’t going to break your parents’ bank account. Things like this didn’t matter to my parents though. If I needed glasses (which I did. It wasn’t like I was making this crap up), then I had to get them at this 30 dollar bill place. Please keep in mind that this rule only applied to me, not my sister or brother (granted, they didn’t need glasses) and definitely not my parents, since it was THEIR money. This place was in the middle of a strip mall that included a discount bargain shop (this was before the dollar store because popular), a clothing store for kids, and a little caeser’s pizza place. This strip mall had all the makings for a disaster written all over it. I don’t think I’ve ever really been embarrassed by my parents other than the time my mom cut my hair crooked and offered to pay me a dollar if I told everyone I did it (I did not accept her offer and was happy to throw her under the bus when people asked me what was up with my hairdo). So, we go to the glasses store after school one day to get my new shades. I really wanted a pair of tortoise shell glasses, but at this place, it was slim pickins. And because I was only allowed to spend THIRTY dollars on my glasses, I had to take what I could find. I found a pair of perfectly round, larger than john lennon black glasses. What I was thinking, nobody knows, including myself. We plunk down thirty bucks only to find out that it takes TWO WEEKS for the glasses to come in. No wonder it’s so cheap. I guess they order the frames directly from China and pay the minimum shipping they can get away with to actually have them shipped. Who cares that I couldn’t see a thing right then, because it would be another 2 weeks before I could see again, and really, what is two weeks? But, because we were apparently destitute and my eyesight was the least of our woes, I had to oblige and be ok with this two week turnaround.
After forking over the life savings, my mom suggested she would go walk around the bargain store and see what sorts of treats they had. I would have loved to have gone with, because I love a bargain, but I couldn’t see, so what was the point? Mom gave me some cash and told me to “run over to the pizza place and order us some supper to take home.” But, before I could go, she told me to make sure I said “pizza pizza because they will give you free breadsticks.” I am not lying either. Back when I could see, these commercials kept coming on the tv that said if you said “pizza pizza” to the guys behind the counter, they would give you free breadsticks. So, I knew exactly what she was talking about. People, do you get what I am saying here? MY MOTHER SENT ME TO LITTLE CEASER’S WITH A WAD OF CASH TO SAY PIZZA PIZZA TO THE GUYS BEHIND THE COUNTER SO I COULD GET FREE BREADSTICKS WITH MY ORDER. I mean, it’s a great idea but can you imagine what they thought of me, this little blind girl standing there saying pizza pizza over and over? Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t actually order anything first. I distinctly remember opening the door and saying “pizza pizza.” It was like when you go to hit a pinata and you can’t quite find the donkey with your bat…since my glasses were still 2 weeks away, I was walking into and around this pizza place saying pizza pizza over and over until finally, one of the workers said “do you want pizza with your breadsticks?” oh thank the Lord for you! This wasn’t embarrassing at all! Especially for me, the epitome of cool (by this point at least I had moved on from the purple kicks and was probably wearing a pair of equally awesome Doc Martens). I couldn’t get out of there, or through with this day, fast enough. And much like the littlest pig said wee wee wee all the way home, I yelled pizza pizza all the way home to our humble abode.

Sadly, I still say pizza pizza every time I see a pizza. I prefer to say it when wearing my designer spectacles purchased with my own dimes. And my folks? They just laugh and say they don’t remember this stuff. Of course not. Bullies never remember the pranks they pull.

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