We’ve all been there. Sunday night is creeping in. It’s go hard or go home time. The conundrum that makes mincemeat of those with unsturdy souls.
What in God’s name to order from Domino’s.
After much deliberation you opt to go all out for the large cheese crust, when you get sidelined by a pop-down option peddling two mediums for the price of one and a chicken goujon platter with dips thrown in.
In these times of nationwide austerity you get sucked in against your will and before you know it there’s an email from HQ saying your order is in the kitchen. Dazed and unsure as to what just happened, you settle onto the sofa and put your second pair of socks on. The pizza arrives. You take it down.
And then something cleaves your world in two.
From the insipid glow of your laptop screen. That thing the popdown – the one that sold itself to you – had been obscuring.
The Domino’s Hotdog Stuffed Crust.
Only available with a large. In what world could any medium pizza contend with that. At three times the price, you would’ve donated an organ just to be in the same room as that thing. The emptiness of someone with a full stomach surges through your blackened heart. The night is over, you hurl abuse at your flatmate about his mother and his sister, slam the door and hit the haystack.
That heady dough of mustard-infused bratwurst would’ve tasted wrong for all the right reasons. But you taste only the tang of defeat. Meanwhile someone takes a pizza slicer to your soul. In the knowledge you’ve fallen short of the stars, that day, a little of you dies.
Fitting then, that a man descending from the land of the pizza dropped a truth-bomb back in the day with a similar range of ballistics. This, from a man who rustled this up before he turned 25.
The greatest danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting out aim too low, and achieving our mark.
Michelangelo Buonarotti 1475-1564 Greatest artist in history, discuss