Love Among the Pizza Boxes

I watch the poor guy slump away slowly into the night and I can’t help but call out, “Hey!”
He stops dead in his tracks, then turns around. He blinks once. “Yes?”
“Do you wanna come in for a slice of pizza? You look beat.”
He sighs, then shrugs, and walks back over to the entrance, holding his Pizza Hut hat in one hand.
I smile at the dude. Pizza Hut. Bummer.
I walk inside with the pizza box- pepperoni and olive- and close the door behind him.
“So… What’s your name Pizza Hut?”
He smirks half-heartedly, tiredly, and responds, “Riku. And yours?”
“Shayla. Hey, you like pepperoni?”
“It’s only the best pizza topping ever invented.”
I smile again, “I respect that sentiment.” Then I mosey on over to the empty staff-kitchen area thing. There isn’t one person left in the building but myself and Riku the pizza boy. All the other employees are old farts with curfews and meatloaf to get home to.
Me? I’m a free spirit with no bedtime and no meatloaf to heat up.