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Flaky

When a door closes, a window opens, and so Chuck Klosterman, recently liberated from his job at Spin, must have had some time to turn his attention to pizza. In a piece in the New York Times Magazine, he writes:

Canisters of red pepper have many small holes cut into their lid; this is how the pepper is dispensed upon the pizza. Certainly, this is no great mystery of science. But — for reasons that remain unclear — I momentarily assumed I was living in an alternative reality where this was not the case. In this alternative reality, patrons were expected to unscrew and remove the cap of the red-pepper container, because (in this reality) the little sprinkling holes are situated beneath the cylindrical cap. But in our reality, there is not a collection of little holes underneath the cap of such containers; there is nothing but spice. Which is why I proceeded to dump the totality of the red pepper directly onto the middle of my pizza, where it congregated in a mound vaguely resembling Mount St. Helens.

Worse yet, he decides to eat it. Is unemployment driving him mad? I didn't really get whether there was anything deeply significant about his actions, but, hey, I'm not that deep of a guy.

One Slice With Extra Meaning [New York Times Magazine]

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