The Luck of the Irish
Friday night, my hand digs through the bowl of unsuspecting pizza victims. My fingers, they rummage through pieces of paper. I am hopeful the choice redeems last weeks debacle. I pull out a name. My mind flashes. "Mamma Mia." I announce to the now crowd of family members (my wife and cousin). Their faces show curiosity. I Google search real quick. "Well, apparently it is in the mall." Their faces unmoved. Nobody seems excited about this one. "Hey, it's like Sbarro." I say trying to convince both myself and them. The next day my wife and I take our daughter to the zoo. We figure we could jaunt on over to the mall to attempt a slice from the mall life (I had the title for this one in my head as soon as I drew the name). I sat in the back and kept my daughter awake after our busy morning. I do this by reminding her that pizza is upon us. "Pizza Pizza!" She sounds like the Little Caesars cave man guy. The food court has no pizza, ...