It’s 4 am and I’m walking home from a disappointing night out. I’m alone. I feel as though the world has cast me out. There’s nobody out there for me. I am unlovable.
I pull out my phone hoping for some miracle. A sign maybe, that someone out there cares for me. Or at least knows I exist. I see the Domino’s App. Since when has Papa John’s sworn enemy pivoted to become a tech company? Whatever.
Hakim is hand-pressing my pizza into the pan. Why is that part of their ad campaign- how else is the dough supposed to get from the counter into the cooking device? I guess it’s working, because I like that Hakim uses his hands every day for his work. He’s part of the means of production. Marx would be happy. It makes me happy.
He’s on a bike headed to my place and taking a different route than I would’ve expected. It upsets me. You think you know a person… Slowly I’m realizing what he’s doing, though. He’s avoiding the main streets and stoplights. I’m sorry that I underestimated you, Hakim. I don’t know why I get like this sometimes. I can be so judgemental. He understands. He’s a gentle soul and he knows that I’m prone to overreact- a function of my tumultuous upbringing. He’s so good to me, so patient. He keeps coming my way. I clutch the phone to my chest.
I’m nervous. My heart is pounding as he rounds the corner one block away.
He left me standing in the doorway with a pizza in my arms, the smell of hot cheese and sweat mixing in the air between us. I can tell he pedaled hard. Even at this time of night, when he knows it’s just a drunk dial. He cares.
I think I love him.
I’ve figured out that Hakim works the overnight shift on Saturday and Sunday. I order four pizzas a weekend and track his movements religiously. We have inside jokes now, about how all this cheese can’t be good for my arteries. He’s got such an amazing sense of humor. I can’t wait to introduce him to my parents.
Hacking into the GPS system of the pizza tracker was easy. A few Google searches, a couple of coding language books, and a beginner’s course in computer science at the local community college are a small price to pay. What I adore about Hakim is that he’s encouraging me to keep
learning- he’s making me a better version of myself. His selflessness is really what attracts me to him. That and all his great quirks- like how he spends an average of 17.3 minutes in the bathroom. Or how he takes the train to visit his parents on Tuesday evenings. He’s such a caring person.
I just left my third threatening letter on the doorstep of my competition, a house three blocks West and one block North, who also orders a lot of pizza. I don’t like how much time Hakim spends there. I’m telling them to stop ordering from Domino’s, explaining that what Hakim and I have is of another level of magnitude. Our love is like the Domino’s Large 2-topping pizza deal- it seems too good to be true but it isn’t. It’s perfect. Hopefully they get the message. I made some pretty serious promises about what would happen if they didn’t. Deep down I think they understand. They know that what we have is special.
I’ve been sentenced to two years in a minimum security prison. It’s not bad, really. I get to exercise every day and my roommate, who’s great at crafts, has decorated our place with tapestries. I had a meeting with a counselor last week and they mentioned a work-release program that really interests me. Apparently, former inmates have had a lot of success working at Domino’s.