Matt Hazard

The aroma of fresh baking and cheese filled the air. With each breath filling my lungs, my stomach ached to be filled in unison. Time slowed down. The noise inside the social hall fell into the background like a tiny echo chamber before dwindling down to a faint buzz. My wife grabbed my shoulder, jolting me back to reality.

“Babe, you going to be ok?”

“Yeah, of course. I got this. It’s not like I’m addicted…” I stammered out. I did have this. It didn’t matter that the entrance of the hall was being filled up with dozens of catered pizzas from Dominos, aiming to be the most epic midnight snack a social event has seen this side of Manitoba. I wasn’t going to crack. Not even a taste. I was going to win this bet.

Pizza is my kryptonite. Before I met my wife, I was ordering delivery up to four times a week. I slowed down to three after I met her just to show that I had constraint.

One time during the winter my recycling bin blew over and nothing but pizza boxes fell out. The neighbour shovelling his driveway just stared. Yeah, I was that guy on the block. The hopeless addict, with the evidence of his fix spilling out all over the walk way.

And then came the bet.

One month, no Dominos Pizza. An entire month. If luck was on my side this would have lined up in the month of February, but the fact that it was July was out of my control. Thirty days of no pizza. I can make it.

And now, three weeks into the bet at a social hall celebrating a friend’s recent engagement, the smell of cheese was wafting up my nostrils from all angles. Every time someone would pass me with a plate piled high with pepperoni and mushroom the scent would make my butthole pucker. Just a few hours of this and I can get away from the temptation.

While the dance floor was filling up with people, I was filling with remorse. This was a stupid bet to take, but I can’t lose to my wife. Not now. Pride is on the line. I fought the urge to grab a plate knowing that if I could survive the evening here, I could easily coast through the remaining week of abstinence and win the bet.

As the final agonizing minutes of the night out ticked down, I found my wife and we left. I went home and took a hot shower to get all the cold sweat off my face. I did it. I actually had the strength to not have a single slice of FREE pizza. That alone is an amazing feat for a Mennonite.

The week that followed was the easy part. I was geared up and ready to order an extra large four topping pie with wings on the side, as a little trophy for my month long endurance. And on the 30th of the month, that’s exactly what I did. Placed the order, received the order, and dug in.

As I sat in my boxers in the middle of the living room surrounded by Dominos boxes, I took a victory selfie to send to wifey at work, showing her that I had won our little competition and she owed me for the victory meal. Her response was ice.

“Matt. There are 31 days in July, today is the 30th. I WIN”

Pizza really is my kryptonite, and my wife knew the truth all along. Maybe it’s time I admit it to myself. My name is Matt, and I am an addict.