This process of radical purging of stuff has not left us much time for fine dining, or even healthy dining. Exhausted, we ordered pizza. With a nod to the future, we ordered it online. Dazzled by apparent plenty, we ordered "cheezy" bread sticks. Primed by objects and photos I hadn't seen for some time and loaded on bad food (and enhanced by L. discovering Pandora and rediscovering the 80's and 90's), I was instantly transported.
Almost twenty years ago I lived on Rosemary Street, behind the Reader's Corner, and I would walk to the Five-O on Hillsborough street on many evenings and shyly gawp at adorable women while hanging with dudes of a similar temperament.
But I needed dinner before beer, and I'd call ahead to Gumby's Pizza. It was on the way (originally around 3017 Hillsborough Street), and the cheapest pizza in the world (IN THE WORLD). I'd get cheese bread sticks, partly for the ease of eating, partly for the portability, and partly because I was too clumsy not to spill sauce all over myself if I was eating and walking at the same time.
So I realize that a few years of bad food and drinking habits do not a near-death experience make (a lifetime does, however), so if you were looking for a punch line to the headline I guess you're disappointed now. You're left just like me, with only memories and memorabilia.
Which is not to say those things aren't awesome, because they are.