Pizza In our little Brooklyn neighborhood we have two pizza places nearby. Down the hill we have the one that does the sesame seed crust ones. Up the hill we have the one that does the slightly buttery crust ones.
Hungry It's Halloween and we are hungry. We are walking around the neighborhood and hoping not to get hit by eggs thrown by rowdy teens. Champagne flowing through our veins.
Pizza! We go in and order the two last slices on display. Mrs. Robot looks at the wall and sees a sign saying that they are closing November 1 and will re-open a few weeks later under a new name and with a whole new... style. Panini. Pizza. Pasta. Beer. Garden out back. Cornball name.
We realize that we are ordering the last slice here. Ever. "Is this the last pizza?" The counter guy explains that the very old man who owned it (and who I assume was the same very old man who worked there) sold it or lost it or something. The new boss is making changes but keeping most of the same staff on board.
Dough! He then asks us if we want any dough. After they close, they will be throwing it all out.
He asks if we want some mozzarella? Hell to the yes. He loads us up with a mountain of mozzarella and then four pizza-sized portions of dough.
