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Pizza, Anyone? Pepperoni Special…

Story ID:8202
Written by:Charles Dishno (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Musings, Essays and Such
Location:Dillon Montana USA
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Pizza, Anyone? Pepperoni Special…

By Chuck Dishno

Roz and I lived in Fresno, California in the 1970’s and 80’s. Even though we both worked hard, Roz, in a hospital lab and me running my printing business, we followed our Fresno State University sports where ever they went.

We rarely missed a game, be it Basketball, Football, Baseball, Women’s softball, and Women’s basketball. Roz couldn’t always go to all the games but I worked around my customers, that if Fresno State was playing, I would be there. I think my favorite was baseball.

Fresno State Bulldogs had recently built a new stadium that was mostly paid for by us patrons buying a seat. I purchased two seats at $1000 each that were 9 rows up and straight behind home plate.

We had a great group of fans that had also purchased their seats, including the mayor of Fresno. We would look forward to each game and rode the umpires un-mercenarily.

Bulldog Stadium had 2 food stands where you were encouraged to buy your snacks and drinks. This made sense as it helped with the expenses of running the program. Bringing food in from the outside was defiantly a no-no and all fans were checked at the gate.

Being the resourceful fans that we were we were always trying to sneak in something.

One cold evening my friend told all around that he would bring in a pizza the next game. He said he had it all figured out and the pizza would be on him.

Little did we know how true this would be. The next evening we saw him get out of his car and walk toward the gate with a giant pizza box in his hands. As he neared the gate, he unzipped his coat, stood the pizza box on its end and stuffed the bottom in his pants then buttoned up the pants and zipped the coat around his booty.

The next thing we saw was him coming up the stairs to our seats. He had almost made it when the bottom of the box gave way and the hot pizza slipped into his shorts. He then started to walk straddle legged and hollered up to us that he was going home, as his shorts were full of pepperoni. It was very obvious by the grease that was showing thru his pants. Needless to say we didn’t get our pizza but the sight of him waddling out of the stadium was more than worth it. The last thing he said, as he reached the gate was to yell at us saying, “Pepperoni, anyone."

When he said that the pizza was on him, he wasn’t kidding.