(My diet has gaps no level of supplement-gobbling could plug, and for as long as this remains undetectable at a distance of at least ten feet, this is unlikely to change. Nevertheless, on my own, I would normally go hungry rather than order in chain pizza. But I discovered on my May road trip that Rosie never lets a morsel of Domino’s toppings—the kind I get, anyway—go to waste. Because she earns every greasy bite, I carried this habit back to Boulder with me and…well, I’ll let her tell it. My fingers are still cooling off after I emptied the magazine over the long weekend.)
At a glance, caught lollygagging in the rays, I am perhaps easily mistaken for a house lion, the laziest residents of any neighborhood.
An orange one of those has lain beneath a government surveillance van six houses yonder, unmoving and sullen, for over two months, feigning boredom. But before I get to that, I must explain my glorious connectedness to an inexplicable cascade of cheese that began about three moons ago.
During our trip, I was introduced to a near-perfect heated confection that arrives in a geometrically telltale cardboard container. We feasted on these almost nightly after long glorious hikes—and to my knowledge, these arrived without request or effort, as a different member of a white, red, and powder-blue uniformed military deposited the container at the door of our temporary lodgings. I was therefore led to believe that this magical product was available only at budget establishments where multiple audible hillbilly brawls are in progress at all hours.
But when we began to re-inhabit Colorado, a strange thing happened: The deliveries continued, right to the mansion, not every day but regularly. My peevishness at not having been introduced to this option the moment I moved in was offset by the gratitude of this semi-regular treat. The butcher and fry cooks in the colorful military units who supply these edible frisbees to the public have incentivized the process with a rewards system that sporadically results in moneyless nourishment (not a direct understanding of the process, but perfectly close).
Less than two weeks ago, we submitted an order that nudged us to 60 points in this system, earning one free disc eatable within six months. But also and furthermore, this was delivered about 20 minutes later than the confection military promised, so we were offered another of the same type of disc as compensation, this one to be swallowed within 30 days.
So now we had two free discs coming, but we were growing wise to the marketing process. You see, a 5-denomination delivery charge is required even for “free” orders, as well as a bribe to the delivery soldier to coerce them to depart without violence. After a somber tribunal, we decided to order both gifted discs at once, to avoid paying two separate delivery charges. Such strategies are sensible when no quality distinction is made between “fresh” and “reheated” or just “day old.”
We submitted that order eight days ago. These two discs were grossly delayed, more so than before, earning us yet another free supper to go with the two somewhat warm ones we suddenly had in our possession. (BTW, does anyone know what a pepperoni looks like in the wild?)
Three evenings later, after heading into the mountains and consulting our souls but mostly our bellies, we claimed that offering. By this time, you may be wondering if we had begun hoping for “the worst” with each order, which of course we had. And we were blessed anew, as this confection too came late, by far the tardiest order yet.
The tally at this point: Three orders producing four free units within one week.
Alas, when we redeemed the most recent offer two nights ago, it arrived promptly and without a chase or a scuffle. It was quickly decided that a combination of alfredo sauce and Philly steak bleeds away any chance of fortuitous happenings (and also causes notable spikes in canine buttbelches).
I was told in whispered tones that in the end, the cheese-disc military making money off us even during their losing streak. No matter what, this is a true Domino effect, even if it is not what was planned when that theory was proposed.
I am a cheese-seeking missile. Even when I do not find it on my own, it invariably finds me. But make no mistake—I require every bit of protein and fat supplementation and far more, currently in negotiations. (Not to brag, but only about half of the below is running.)
