Last Friday night, heading home from work after a long day trying to get my cover feature for this week ready, I stopped off at a store in Sandy for some supplies. As I came out, I saw a young man in a national pizza chain uniform march out of his place of employment, one hand on his stomach.---
Such was the pace and speed of his stride, I watched him with some interest. As I unlocked my door, I looked up to see him duck between two SUVs and vomit. He stood there for a moment, wiped his mouth, then marched straight back into the pizza store.
As he entered the pizza chain, a customer came out, bearing four boxes with no doubt freshly cooked pizza and bread sticks piled up in his arms. He walked round to his car, stood unawares precisely in the pool of barf the pizza store employee had left for him, got into his car and drove away.
Feeling decidely queasy, I couldn't figure out whether to laugh or go in and complain. Tiredness got the better part of valor and I headed for home.