i hear one slice packs like over 1,000 calories. but that's not why i won't touch the stuff. no, it's because on my first weekend in DC, when i had just moved in and experienced the late nite post-last call hunger pangs, i lined up at the place i like to call the "disco slice. it's the one that's lower down on the strip, across from kalorama that boasts loud techno music, sparkly walls, dancing billboard guy, strobe lights...enough to give you a seizure. we had exited pharmacy bar and my roommate from north carolina and i were in no way going to wait on this extraordinarily long line. we pooled our resources together: her big boobs and perfect smile and my 5 dollar bill. she approached our prey, an inebriated gentleman with not one, not two, but three huge slices of pepperoni pizza. the transaction was quick and effortless and as we cheered our achievement - yes, at the time buying a huge greasy slice of pizza for 3 times what it's worth, while degrading ourselves before someone likely from virginia was worthy of celebration. in our haste of jumping and hugging and wooooing i inadvertantly dropped the weighty slice and as luck would have it, fell right onto the sidewalk, cheese side down.our smiles quickly faded to desperation, we don't have any more money! we're starving! the other patrons cum spectators quickly chanted "5 second rule!! 5 second rule!!" and without thinking, i picked up the slice, leaving a puddle of grease upon the mottled sidewalk, inspected it quickly for hypodermic needles and cigarette butts and to the raving shouts and applause from our adoring fans took a huge bite. it was unexpectedly smooth and sorta tasty, as opposed to crunchy with sand and glass shards, offering validity to the rule so many of food droppers live by. as we stumbled home my roommate and my conscience made me promise to never eat a slice of that pizza ever again. every time i walk by i feel a cringe of regret from that night, and to this day, i have abided.
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