Tonight I signed up for a pizza race.
Here are the rules. Order a pizza with your smart phone, then race home to beat the pizza guy.
I was zooming through my neighborhood when I saw some headlights in my rear view mirror.
"Could be the pizza guy," I thought, and I speeded up.
He speeded up.
As I performed a Fast and Furious handbrake skid turn into my driveway he screeched to a halt in front of my house. We both raced to the front door.
"Beat you!" we both shouted simultaneously.
Breathing heavily I gave the pizza guy a good tip for effort.
"I'd share this with you," I said, "but I guess you're sick of pizza being a delivery guy and all."
"Not really," he said.
So, we sat there on the lawn and ate pizza right as the International Space Station soared overhead.
"Wow," pizza delivery guy said, " that would be a cool delivery."
Silently we both agreed.