Happy Pizza & the Meaning of Everything

Lifting the veil and coming back empty handed.

There used to be an infamous pizza joint in Phnom Penh called Happy Pizza. Who knows how the Gemini Husband knew of it, but he and my then thirteen year old daughter walked there one evening to pick up a pizza. Among the many pizzas on offer were two specialty items called the Happy Pizza and the Extra Happy Pizza. Happy, in this case, being a euphemism for marijuana.

They returned to our suite with his Happy Pizza, and he ate half of it…and waited. My daughter and I went out to enjoy Cambodian food, and came back to find that he’d eaten the other half as well, and still…nothing. He was so disappointed. After all, it wasn’t even a good pizza! He suspected that being accompanied by my angelic looking thirteen year old daughter was what threw the whole plan. In a country rife with pedophiles and under age sex trafficking, the restaurant owners probably thought there was something untoward going on and refused to play. So the next evening he went without her and ordered an Extra Happy Pizza, just to be safe.

He brought it back and ate the whole thing. We girls just laughed at him: eating two bad pizzas in a city full of gorgeous Cambodian food! Ridiculous. Plus, we expected this pizza would be a dud as well, with maybe some “extra” oregano or something. Anyway, who wants to be stoned in Cambodia? It was probably something he wanted to do to be able to say he did it, to check off his list, to include in the travel book he never wrote.

We were wrong. About the dud, anyway. It was a Very Happy Pizza.

I don’t know much about marijuana or how it works. Does one build up a tolerance to it, like alcohol? Gemini Husband was not a pot smoker, so maybe that’s why he got so incredibly altered. I have no idea.

He went through stages. He talked for a while, non-stop. At first it was this blissful release of his larger persona level structures, the letting go of psychic and emotional armour. It was all about how he loved us and how grateful he was to have us, and how good life was, and so on. He was effusive. He shed tears of joy.

Then he fell quiet. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his face intense and open in a kind of rapture. Then he started writing. He rose from his stupor and exclaimed, “I see the meaning of the universe!”