A woman delivered groceries right as I started this dough. Everything was in the bowl, except for half the flour. By the time we were finished with that the yeast had already well started in the unmixed bowl. It was bubbling all over the place.
"I started a pizza just as you called."
She appeared to be a young ethnic woman. But I didn't dare speak Spanish because you never do know. She also appeared American as baked apple tortilla.
"What? You actually make your own pizza?"
Like that's not even possible.
I love young people with all of my heart.
They're impressively energetic and they work so very hard.
I told her, you know your company charges us 12 bucks for delivery. 6 for handling, and 6 for delivery. She said, "I know."
"This is for you." I gave her 15 dollars and she expressed what appeared to be genuine thanks. How many women do you know will throw their body into loading and pushing and dragging a gigantic heavy cart like that through doorways, up elevators, and down hallways and into apartments? $200.00 worth of groceries. She unloaded it faster than I do. And drive around town doing that. I haven't worked in a very long time. And when I did work it was with federal bankers averse to physical labor even though they worked out at a gym. They shared a mental block against physical labor. They are white collar. None of the women in my family would do this. So to see young women doing hard work, and old men too, it just blows my mind.
They have my admiration and my affection. I want to see them succeed.
After all that, I open the door to the refrigerator to get a can of Coke and see the half pound hamburger meat that I intended to put on top of this. Oh well. Vegetarian then.
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