Today, while my clothes get their warm, soapy, freak on, Problematic Pizza is devoid of the owner, but there is a very loud phonestalker doing his best to make sure I have something to write about.

Shitbrains Loud Talker: "The sled is in the car. It's in the car in the driveway. Well I'm not at home. I'm not at home. I'm out. I'm not there. I don't have it with me. Because I'm out. I'm not home. Well, tell him he can't have it right now. I'm out. I'm not home. Tell him if it's that important, he should buy his own sled. I'm out. I'm not driving home, picking up the sled, driving to his house, and then coming back. He's a grown up, he can afford his own sled. He's thirty-three. I don't even know what street he lives on. No. I'm not going to his house right now, I'm out. I'm not home. It's like I told you, the sled is at home, I'm not. He should get his own sled, then. I'm hanging up now."

After a minute, the guy's phone rings again.

SLT: "Hi. Yea. She told me. I'm not home. Can you wait an hour? There is no such thing as a Sled Emergency. I'm out. I'm not bringing the sled to your house right now. I'm out. Fine. An hour. What street do you live on? The street name. The name. That's a number. What's the name? I don't know where that is. Yes, I realize that's where you live, but I don't know where it is. You know what, why don't you pick it up at my house? An hour and a half. Because I'm not home. The door is locked. Because it is. It just is. Why don't you buy your own sled? They cost ten bucks. No. No. My sled cost ten bucks. You don't have ten bucks for a sled? How much do you spend a week on pot? You don't have ten bucks for a sled? Forget it. Well, maybe I want to go sledding now. It's my sled. Stop yelling at me. No. No. Forget it. I'm not coming. Nope. You shouldn't. I won't be there. I'm not going home now. I don't want to. I want to go sledding. I'm going to go out and buy a brand new sled, even though I have a sled at the house, and I'm going to go sledding without you. Maybe I'll buy three sleds and give two away to homeless people. If you stop by my house, I will snap that sled in half right in front of you. It's ten bucks. Think I won't do it?"

He puts the phone down.

SLT, to the guy sitting across the table from him: "Your brother wants to borrow my sled. The guys is thirty-three what does he want to go sledding for?"

Guy Also Sitting At Table: "He's got a six year old and an eight year old. He probably wants to take them sledding."

SLT: "Oh, he just wants to go sledding?"

GASAT: "What else would he do with a sled?"

SLT: "Want to go buy him his own sled and drop it off at his house?"



​
I seriously don't understand people. At. all.

PPG just crawled on his stomach in the direction of my table.

As soon as he came around the corner I could see him, because he is a three-dimensional being on a flat surface in clear view of where I'm sitting.

Rather than say anything, I sat way up in my chair and Spock-eyed him.

PPG: "Ya caught me. I could have gone lower if I'd wanted to."

​Me: "No. I don't think you could."

In the middle of a perfectly harmless rant about the different types of candies he likes, Problematic Pizza Guy goes off the rails.

PPG: I like Kit Kats and Twixes. Especially the little ones. Oh, man. Halloween, right? And Peanut Butter Cups. Always peanut butter cups, right? You remember Watchamacalits? Rolos? Those little circular chocolate things. And peanut butter, what are they called, Milky Ways? No. And not Twixes. Hunh, peanut butter somethings. Maybe they were...oh, did you see those two girls go by. Jail time. I mean they're sixteen. Six months with a sixteen year old is worth a year in jail, right? Snickers! Peanut butter Snickers.

A tall Asian man walks in.

PPG: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey. Yao Ming.

Exasperated Dude: Steven.

PPG: Yea, but you know Yao Ming, right? He played bask--

ED: I KNOW. YOU SAY IT EVERY TIME I COME IN. Can I just have some mozzarella sticks?

PPG: Sure thing, guy.

Then he winks at me.

I don't wink back.

​PPG: Peppermint patties? Those little ones are perfect right? Mmmmmm. Little ones.

I think watching Problematic Pizza Guy watch the Obama speech explains precisely type of stupid, not ignorant, stupid American who falls for idiots like Trump.

Obama: I keep reading letters that say 'Do something.'

PPG: He wants me to do something. Everyone wants ME to do something.

Me: No. He said people want him to do something. Him. Not you. You've got to actually listen to what someone says before you criticize them.

PPG: I don't need to listen. I pick up enough of their underling (sic) message.

This is the problem. This absolutely moronic waste of reproductive material talks constantly. And there are people stupid enough to think this guy has a single functioning brain cell. He doesn't. He doesn't listen. He doesn't understand what he half hears. But he speaks as though he's an expert on any subject brought up to him.
There are four people in this place who are having very serious conversations with him, where they are on his side.

Someone actually said "Obamacare taking all our guns away isn't going to solve anything. People will just get their guns from the black market and kill even more people because it was so difficult to get their guns."

Now they're discussing the stock market, as if one of them wasn't unemployable, and the other didn't inherit this business from his marginally more intelligent parents.

'murica.

​

Me: What do you want to do tonight?

Dude: Necessary conversation.

I freeze. This is not someone I know through slam, and I can only hear that phrase as a punchline or a Fuck You.

Me: What?

Dude: I'm kidding. I was thinking maybe we should chill and watch Netflix.

I glare.

Dude: I spent too much time reading articles on how to date someone this week. I'm sorry. Maybe we could.....WHAT DO NORMAL PEOPLE DO?

Me: Are we dating now? Did I miss--

Dude: No. No. That's not what I'm saying. I just read a lot of articles on dating, and now I don't even know how to spend time with my friends.

Me: Are we friends now? I th---

Dude: STOP MESSING WITH ME! I'm very vulnerable right now.

Me: Should I hold you and tell you everything is going to be ok?

Dude: We are definitely not friends. You are The Worst Person I Know.

Me: Really? I'm The Worst Person You Know?

Dude: Let's go get a pizza or something. Isn't there a place at the end of the street?

Me: Ahhhhh. sure, let's go there. Then I definitely won't be The Worst Person You Know.

​Dude: So...let's order in, then?

Emily meets me at Problematic Pizza to drop off some money for a project I picked up. Before Problematic Pizza Guy has a chance to say anything particularly misogynist, she leaves.

As she drove away, I made my way back to my seat at the back of the restaurant. On my way past the counter, PPG pushed a basket filled with brownies and whoopie pies in my direction.

Me: "No, thanks."

PPG: "I charge you for two brownies, right?"

I continue walking to table.

PPG: "I charge you for two brownies, then, right?"

I sit down and put in my headphones. He walks over and stands in front of me, smiling.

PPG: "I said, I'm going to charge you for two..."

Me: "Most of the time I hear what you're saying, I just don't think it warrants a response."

PPG: "I guess I'm not funny today."

Me: "If you guessed that every day when you woke up in the morning, and decided not to try, the world would be a better place."

I came in to Problematic Pizza Place again, in hope of more fodder for my project, but the only other people in here are a tutor and her student, and I have no desire to eavesdrop on them.

At some point Problematic Pizza Guy started talking to me, and I ignored him, so he came over to the table and started moving his hands at me.

Me: "What are you doing?"

PPG: "I'm signing to you."

Me: "You're not. I speak American Sign Language." poorly.

PPG: "This means good, right?" He folds his arms.

Me: "No. This means good." I say, signing Good.

PPG: "So what does this mean?" he crosses his arms.

Me: "Delay of game."