Pizza Delivery Boy Gets Sucked

“Can I use your bathroom?” “Sure. Absolutely,” I said, opening the door wide and stepping aside. “There’s one right down the hall.”
*****
I was hungry but I didn’t know what for. My wife had left that morning with our baby to visit her mother for the weekend. I’d spent most of the morning laying around, feeling guilty for not going with her. We’d fought about it. I texted her, she didn’t text back. I played some video games. I went outside, it was a hot summer day. I looked over the wall that enclosed my yard and saw someone a few yards down, puttering around, a neighbor I didn’t know.
Here was I was, twenty-seven years old, in the house we’d just bought six months ago and I felt like a bored teenager. I wished I had some pot, which was weird – I’d smoked only a couple times in college, never since then, I wanted something, anything. I wanted to be a little bad.
So I ordered a pizza. It was something my wife wouldn’t abide by. She had a moratorium on all junk food in the house. I got anchovies, pepperoni, and olives, and they said it’d be there in forty-five minutes.
I thought about watching TV. I thought about taking my TV into the back yard and smashing it with a sledgehammer. I got a beer out of the fridge and sucked it down in ten minutes. Then I had another.
I was on my third beer when I got the idea to put some music on – the White Stripes, which was exactly right. I was walking down the hall when I caught a look at myself in the mirror. It made me stop and set down my beer. I was wearing a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt with the...