The Big Cruise Ship

Chapter Three: The Pizza Buffet P.O.V Sarah

I swear I don't know what's going on with me. I've been on the ship for a week and all I have done is eat. I'm not complaining either. I like what's been happening, even if I don't understand it. Like today. I stuffed myself at breakfast (again) with Ellie and I don't how to explain it but it's almost like she wants to watch me eat until I can't eat anymore.  Honestly, I'm not sure who's getting more pleasure? Me from gorging myself or her from watching me. I like the way that she spoils me. She is so attentive, bringing me plate after plate of exactly what I want. It's as if she knows what I want more than I do. Anytime I say something about my weight or worry about getting fat, she just smiles and tells me that I look amazing and reminds me that I'm just starting my vacation. 

"This is the time to indulge." She told me today. 

We don't spend all our time together but I'm starting to hear her encouragement inside my head. 

After breakfast and a nap by the pool, I had gone back to my room to shower. While I was drying off I heard an announcement over the ship's intercom that there was a pizza buffet. I know I can't possibly be hungry after the mountain of food I ate this morning, but hearing the combination of those words - pizza and buffet - my stomach started growling. I threw on a flowy linen shirt and pulled on my jeans. Too uncomfortable. I dug through my suitcase and pulled out a pair of light summer pants. They're one size up and were supposed to be for some anticipated, light weight gain towards the end of the cruise - six months from now! I started to feel bad about it but I could hear Ellie telling me. 

"Enjoy, yourself. You have your whole life to be 'good.' This is your trip. Your time to do exactly what you want."

And I wanted to comfortably eat some pizza. 

In my mind's eye I was imagining cafeteria-style pizza. Which, I kind of love. As I got closer, my nose told me that I was in for something way better than generic, frozen pizza. There was row after row of beautiful oven-fired pizza with every topping imaginable. I perused the buffet slowly and asked one of the chubbier servers.

"How did you do this?"

"There's a coal fire pizza oven on board, Miss. And our head chef is from Naples." He kissed his fingers and made a face to show me that this would be divine.

I grabbed two slices of Margherita pizza and went to take a table so that I could look at the water while we sailed. I took two steps and turned right back around and grabbed two more slices covered in prosciutto.

"Who am I kidding, right?" I said to the server who nodded and laughed.

"Yes. Food this good is not to be missed!"

I sat at the table and inhaled the heavenly scent of tomato sauce, garlic, basil, and fresh mozzarella. The crust was crisp and cracked when I picked it up but was still tender and doughy beneath the crust's perfect char. I took the first bite. It was so good I could scream. The first slice was gone in a minute. I couldn't stop myself from taking double bites. Where you bite twice and sometimes three times before chewing. This was not pizza to be savored (not the first two slices anyway) it was pizza to be devoured and I did.  The prosciutto slices went down too easily. Salty and decadent. A few minutes later my new waiter friend approached the table. He was holding a silver tray.

"Miss, this just came out of the oven and I did not want you to miss your chance at tasting it. The chef makes them as single-serving pies because as slices they just wouldn't hold up." He lowered the tray to the table. There was the most beautiful pizza I had ever seen. Piled high with buffalo mozzarella, ricotta cheese, provolone, and pancetta. 

It was so voluminous I looked around for a fork and a knife to attack this pizza with.

"No utensils?" I asked him.