Of All the Pizza Joints...

I've said it once, and I'll say it again! This blog is just becoming a collection of my awkward life moments involving men, boys, and your run-of-the-mill weirdos. Ah well!

Let's journey back to '07, shall we? I had a summer job as a nanny with an incredible family in Arlington, MA who I'd gotten to know during my job as an after-school teacher. This family lived in a duplex, and I cared for their sweet little cupcake-cheeked crystal blue-eyed baby girl and their older daughter, a witty and hilarious nine-year-old who I adored working with during the school year.

The duplex was owned by the people who lived next door: a family from Syria consisting of a handsome, friendly dad; beautiful-but-aloof wife; and three smiley children under the age of six. The kids would often be out in the yard, so the girls and I would play with them. Sometimes they even came running out if they saw us; we were one big happy Sound-of-Music-eque gang playing together in the summer sun.

The father of the children, "Sal," would come outside and make small talk, probably not wanting me to think that he was dumping his kids on me. Throughout numerous short conversations, I learned that he owned a popular pizza place in town. When I told him that I was an illustrator, he asked about my website and said he wanted to buy some prints. Because if there's anything a middle-aged male business owner has at the forefront of his busy schedule, it's purchasing local art from the babysitter next door...

Sal asked if I wanted to come by the pizza place some evening for a meal on the house. Now you may think that as a successful after-school art teacher and part-time babysitter that I was above a free meal, but you'd be surprised. I decided to invite the older of the two girls to with me (free dinner!), but oddly enough her father (the one I actually worked for) seemed opposed to the idea and politely declined. That's funny... he trusted me with his daughters, but didn't want me taking one down the street for pizza? What was I missing...

One evening (it was still very light out I feel the need to mention!) I sauntered into the pizza place, expecting to get a quick nod from Sal and a free meal. I was caught a bit off-guard when Sal was not behind the counter, but at a table for two that he had set aside for us. Now even writing this it seems completely obvious what was going on, but please believe that at the time I was still clueless or else I would have run out the door with the footsteps/car-starting/car driving away sound sequence that they use on the Simpson's whenever Homer's in trouble.

I'll try to summarize: in very thinly veiled but increasingly obvious ways, Sal let me know that he was interested in me for more than art. Maybe it was the part when he said his wife didn't like it when he spoke to me so he had to meet me somewhere else, or perhaps it was when he spoke of the many properties he owned and offered me a place to live. Not sure. But after 20+ minutes and declining an offer to get a drink at a nearby bar, I got the FLIP out of there (still carrying my leftover food because, seriously, free pizza!). I ignored many follow-up e-mails until finally having the guts to reply, in a semi-respectful way, "You're a creep, leave me alone." I never heard from him again and, on an unrelated whim, packed up and moved to NYC at the end of that summer.

Fast forward to A WEEK AGO. I was visting my family and staying in Chelmsford, a town 30+ minutes away from Arlington. My father had to work and my husband had a class, so I had the afternoon to kill with Grant. One of our favorite places, Chelmsford House of Pizza had closed (single tear) and I decided to try the place that had opened across the street. I wheeled Grant in his stroller and ordered some pizza and salad from the friendly man behind the counter. Just as I was thinking about how nice he was, I heard that DUN DUN DUN sound in my head as I noticed he was wearing the shirt of that OTHER pizza place.

Though the name was different on the outside, I shuddered at the thought that Sal owned this place too. But, at the same time, I was hungry and, again, it's pizza. Besides, just because Sal MAYBE had a part in this new operation didn't mean I was going to... OH NO! THERE HE IS!! Just as I had sat down with Grant to eat, I saw Sal from across the room.

A stronger woman would have walked out immediately. Instead, I bowed my head and shoveled pizza into my mouth, PRAYING he wouldn't see me and if he DID, not think I had gotten fat because I was just pregnant but didn't want to go into that with him. Because, ethics aside, heaven forbid anyone thinks I've gained weight...

Thankfully, he never noticed me. And I didn't exactly tap him on the shoulder to say hello. And, to be honest, the pizza was sub-par. There, I said it. Take that, SAL.

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