By David Ricaud: “I live and breathe teenage melodramas. I am a gay man with a sharp tongue and, ironically, a kind spirit. No apologies.”
Orange oil glides down a plane of browned cheese and thick pepperoni as the golden crust folds and dives into my eager mouth. Say hi to my guilty pleasure. Far too often, I find myself at my local pizzeria after midnight, ordering three slices of pepperoni.
Try and stop me.
I’m not alone in this. I see plenty of other addicts every night. Hell, they’re worse than I am. Some start feeding the beast before they even leave the restaurant. At least, I make an attempt at decorum. Just don’t dare peek in my apartment. You’ll see something like Fat Bastard from Austin Powers.
That said, I realize pizza can be eaten in moderation. In fact, most are not prone to this addiction. But everyone loves pizza.
In my life, I have only met one person who claims to dislike pizza. I’ll just attribute that to her weirdness.
Could pizza be what unites generation Y with its predecessors?
Sex. Entitlement. Self-involvement. To me, these are the three qualities that other generations use to set themselves apart from millennials. The boomers think we are oversexed (maybe we are!) and undervalue some inherent meaning to sexual relations. Gen-Xers, the slackers, say we feel a sense of entitlement to good grades and great jobs. And they all think we are self-focused and value careers over friends and family. “You kids have no roots,” a 68-year-old New Yorker said to me.
Pizza, though, connects us to the slackers, reformed hippies, and WWII heroes. At dinner, my gen-X brothers, my baby boomer parents, and my great generation grandmother show the same appreciation for this simple triangular delicacy.
Dough, mozzarella, and tomato sauce form a timeless American classic—one that, even when we judge our children and grandchildren, will continue to unite us all.
In writing this, I have consumed two slices of pepperoni. Don’t worry. The third is on its way.