Pizza and Period Blood
One of Mel’s favorite activities is trying to “help” me lose weight. His help is normally in the form of motivational speeches which often turn extremely derogatory and patronizing, throwing out food from my refrigerator, or embarrassing me in front of attractive women by pocking my tummy or calling me his tubby uncle. Once I suggested that he turn his focus onto getting his mother to drink less but after she locked him in his room for an entire weekend with nothing to eat or drink besides wine he assured me that I was going to be his only project.
Mel has made friends with most of the pizza delivery places in downtown and whenever I order they call him and he changes my order from pizza to salad and vitamin pills that he has purchased and distributed to them just for me. Now Mel and I normally get along pretty well but there have been a few nights when I’ve opened my door expecting a hot pepperoni pizza and have found instead a salad being delivered by a smirking pimply delivery boy when I have cursed Mel’s very existence.
I stopped doing that once Mel snuck video cameras into my apartment and then posted a video on YouTube where I screamed that I was going to “fucking put my stomach through his head” while ripping my clothes off and rolling around of the floor and trying to get intimate with the salad. He said the video was intended to shame me into eating better and not ordering so many pizzas. The video did capture one of my more embarrassing rants and I did say some things that an uncle shouldn’t say about their nephew but in my defense, I hadn’t eaten in three or four hours and needed a cheese and pepperoni fix really bad. I finally agreed to order less pizza after he showed it to several women I was about to go on dates with and they all abruptly “started their period.”
Why did my video make them start bleeding from their sacred place? I don’t know. They were all still willing to go one the dates but it was I who canceled them. Come on, I’m not going out on a date with a woman who thinks it is appropriate to call up her date who she barely knows and tells them in their normal voice that they started their period. If they had just shot me an FYI over text or used a funny voice on the phone or just not said anything at all maybe I would have kept the date. But to call up a practical stranger and inform then in business like tones that you have started your monthly cycle is just something that a crazy person would do. Maybe they saw me acting like a complete fool or some sort of pizza addict going through withdraws and thought that meant that they could just be super open with me but that isn’t how I work.
I think I speak for all men when I tell you how much we really love staring you in the eye while smiling and trying to figure out if your emotional outbreak is because you are batshit crazy or if you are in, or close to being in, that crazy time of the month. It is one of the few times that us civilians are able to pretend that we are some sort of detective or special agent.
As you are weeping and screaming about the look your sister gave you eight years ago and how the statute you saw yesterday reminded you of that same look, we are busy counting on our toes how many days since the last “dark week.” If we don’t have that information or more likely can’t remember that far back, we are going back through all the info that we do have and are trying to piece together anything that might give us a clue as what is actually happening. I have actually seen a few more brave individuals sniff the air in search of the tell-tale smell of iron.
The real issue is that if you are crazy that means sex is still an option
for the night. This is why algebra is still taught in high school. The guy who is sitting across smiling and agreeing with everything you are vomiting out of your mouth is in the middle of the sex/crazy equation. He knows that if he forgets to carry the one or divides by x instead of y that he could end up in a situation that will either lead to no sex or to sex that he will regret. Sure he won’t regret the actual act of sex and he will still end up with a great story but it might cost him his car, freedom, or any number of things that he hold valuable.
Anyway, Mel tries to help me lose weight and I do my best to avoid crazy women and salad.