Calzone
Let me tell you about the time I had to stop eating calzones for about four years and only started eating them last year. Calzones had become a staple for me. It's just a pizza that's packed and closed up. Perfect! I didn't do too much with my order, just a regular mozzarella and marinara sauce calzone. I ordered so much from this one spot that they already knew my order before I spoke. Anyway, on this fateful day, I was eating a calzone and FaceTiming a friend. I guess I'd gotten carried away with our conversation because I did something that was unimaginable. Typically, one calzone for me was two meals. So I got a knife from the kitchen, one of those small pointy ones that you use to cut vegetables.
While merrymaking and talking to my friend, I began to cut the calzone. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Wait a minute, what is that strange pain? And why does my hand hurt, but still…. back and forth, back and forth, I sawed away. Then I proceeded to look down, and what I saw made my heart stop. What I was cutting was not the calzone. I was cutting myself. I looked down, and my hand was covered in blood. I was in shock, everyone who knew me knew I hated looking at blood. Especially my own blood. As my friend proceeded to ask me what was happening, my face turned pale. I did the only thing I could do; my head became light, and I tried to compose myself because there was somebody on FaceTime.
Thankfully, she was close enough to me for me to do what I did next. I passed out! Yap, incredibly embarrassing. When I woke up, my friend was still on FaceTime. I found myself lying in my bed, parts of my sheets were covered in blood. I had only been out for a few minutes; I guess I was worried about my calzone. I found my brother Patrick hovering over me. He looked so disappointed. I wanted to shut my eyes forever. He found me in a state that I was in and put me on my bed. Once again how embarrassing! I didn't even know what to say to him, how do I explain that I was cutting myself instead of cutting into my calzone?
I can't even explain to anyone how I didn't notice what I was doing. I was thankful that my friend was with me on FaceTime, and that there was somebody around to help me. I stopped eating calzones for years. I couldn't even look at one; I know it's not the Calzone's fault, but if it wasn't for the Calzone, I wouldn’t have cut into my hand like that. Last year I ventured out to see if I could still eat one. I could, and it was good. But it's not something I do regularly; it still feels so wrong.
Mary