Children.

snapshot.
9 of us. three large pepperoni, one large sausage. a lot smaller than we imagined they'd be. $5 for 4 slices of pizza. can't complain. we said grace, mockingly, at the table. Rob presiding as our psychopathic minister, shouting almost.
ROB: "CAN I GET AN AMEN!"
ALL: "AMEN!"
ROB: "CAN I GET A HALLELUJAH!?"
ALL: "HALLELUJAH!" The whole restaurant's disrupted by our racket. behind me, a group of kids with a slew of sticks inventing their own version of pool. a constant shouting match. the perks of being a kid. you can be loud wherever the hell you want. to the right of me, the parents of the future pool sharks of america, being equally as loud as their little cherubs, slightly inebriated Italians. How oddly fitting. Italians at a pizzeria on a friday night. our group yells at the basketball game over the adults, deliberately. they quiet down, i hear someone at the adjacent table whisper 'group of a-holes.' ear-piercing cheering erupts from the pool table. the whole restaurant falls silent briefly as a result. noise resumes. one of the cherubs, red-faced and panting, runs up and in my fucking ear: "MS WATSON!... I GOT ONE IN."

~-~