I have, or rather, had, leftover pizza in my fridge. Leftover pizza makes me think that things are all right with the world. After all, you never know when those thugs from the Bachelor’s Union (Local 237) are going to kick down my door and do a surprise inspection. “Stained carpets? Check. Mismatched flatware? Check. No vegetables in the vegetable drawer? Check. Hey, waitasecond… no beer in the fridge… no big screen TV… no surround-sound stereo system… Youze got anything you want to explain to us, Mister Goer?”

Anyway, the pizza was from Don Amici’s, recommended by my cousin Michael. Don Amici’s is not bad, but it’s no Stuft Pizza. Ah, Stuft Pizza. I worked there for a couple of years in high school with my old friends Eric and Jason. The best part was that I learned how to throw the pizzas. This was the high-status job, not for rookies. First you bussed. Then you decorated pizzas (added toppings). Then you worked the oven. And then you got to throw. Unless you were a girl, of course. Then you skipped directly to Stage 2 and stayed there. Blatantly sexist, I know. The only exception was the owner’s cousin, Zelia. She was allowed to throw because although she was only four-foot-nine, she had the Strength of the Undead. We had a love-hate relationship, Zelia and I.

Where was I? Pizza-throwing. Now, when you see the old Italian guys in the movies throwing pizzas (usually while singing O Sole Mio or some such), you’re seeing The Basic Throw. Pizza goes up. Pizza spins lazily in the air. Pizza falls. Catch, repeat. Basically, this is the throw for little kids, cripples, invalids, and movie actors dressed to look like old Italian guys. Any pizza thrower worth his or her salt has mastered the continual throw, where you use both hands to rapidly spin the pizza like a turntable. Not only does this look cooler, but it flattens the dough much faster to boot. One you’ve mastered that throw, you work on the one-handed continual throw. After that, the off-hand one-handed continual throw. And after that… the pinnacle of pizzeria puissance, the mighty Double. Two pizzas spinning continuously, one with each hand. I never figured out how to do it. I was able to do both of the continual throws, but never at the same time. A few more months at the pizza place, and I would have had it, I think. Maybe I woulda hit the big time. The Pizza Olympics. Hey, I was just a crazy mixed-up kid with a head full of dreams, you know? But instead I went off to college and studied far less practical things. And that, as they say, was that.