An Addiction to Food

PIE

I can't live on much longer. Pie. I need pie. It has been almost 24 hours since my last indulgence and I crave. OOO. I crave it BAD. Since I cannot fit into the car, I order my pie- the best pies come from Mama Yama Pie and they marvelously have home deliveries at my dispense. Well by now they should just drive to my house everyday. While waiting and starving I wearily get up and wait on my pie bench near my door, but stumble halfway there so I drag myself with every bit of strength I could. I sweat through my Captain America shirt- that was getting kind of tight anyways- and oops, my under wear as well. Okay I'll just strip then. But the tension runs high. I have to decide: leave my pants on or take them off. I mean they've seen me unclothed many times so what's the difference? I've just a little damp here and there. Oh no- rumbling, shaking happens and an earthquake emerges from my center- I'm getting slower to dying. What the heck is taking the pie delivery man so long?! I say, "My dearest stomach name Stommy, don't you worry Daddy is going to save you" as I pat my dome like belly. The doorbell rings, but I'm only halfway there! Okay, pie is worth dying for. So I push myself up with Stommy supporting me and I "Matrix-ly" move to the door. Finally the end of my suffering is over, I open the door and the guy says, "Here's you pizzas sir."

Starbucks

Finally, the forty day wait is over and I think God is opening the gray clouds and letting a ray of light shine over Starbucks. Receiving the signal, I burst through the doors to find a line shaking around all the over-produced mugs standing around. It's fine, I say to myself, I've waited forty days to drink a cup of flavor blasting caramel frappuccino, so what can a fifteen minute waiting time do to me? Of course I don't "knock-on-wood", when I tell myself that, but that was a mistake. Just as I was going to take my order, a man comes sprinting in saying that his child is about to be born, so he need to rush ASAP. Okay, nbd ( no big deal), I tell myself. He orders the same drink but multiplies it by five because he claims that his preggo wife drinks four to calm her unusual cravings. The baristas rush to make the frappuccinos and send him on his way, after giving him a discount. I finally get to order my drink and of course they run out of their special pump that makes their drinks captivating. Of course, I live in the middle of nowhere so I must wait the next day. 

The next day, I find the same man pulling the con and I want to beat him up.

Author's Note

feel free to comment and suggest and critique