Luka Doncic heard the ringing of his doorbell, and, knowing exactly who the visitor was, got up quickly from his PC desk to greet them. Practically running to the front door, he wrenched it open and saw that he had not been mistaken in his expectations: the GrubHub delivery guy was standing right there, holding a large bag of food.
“You’re, uh, Luka?” the shaggy-haired man said, pausing to consult the name on the receipt.
“Yeah,” Luka answered, glad that this deliveryman didn’t recognize him. Some of them did, which always felt awkward. He took the brown paper bag of food and handed the man a twenty-dollar bill despite the fact that he had already left a tip through the GrubHub app. Luka figured that if he got a reputation among the drivers as a generous tipper, future deliveries would get to him faster.
“Hey, thanks!” the man said, his disengaged expression being replaced with a happy smile. “Have a good one!”
Luka nodded and closed the door. He was glad the interaction with the deliveryman had been short; the smell of the food was tempting him, and he couldn’t wait much longer. Taking it all back to his desk, he shoved his keyboard and mouse out of the way to make room for it all to be unpacked.
His chair creaked dangerously when he plopped back down into it, and he realized sheepishly that his breathing was seriously labored just from the quick jog to his front door and back. But there was no time to catch his breath. The delicious Taco Bell food had already spent too long in transit; it needed to be consumed before it lost the gooey, cheesy warmth that was part of the reason why it was so addictive.
The two orders of Nachos Supreme were the first out of the bag, and, not coincidentally, the first into Luka’s mouth. As one hand hurriedly stuffed the beef-, cheese-, and salsa-covered tortillas chips into his mouth, the other hand grabbed more items from the bag and arrayed them in front of him. There were so many that Luka couldn’t even remember what he had ordered; luckily, most of the wrappers had the name of the item printed in easy-to-read letters, so he was able to take stock of the situation while nachos were unceasingly fed into his mouth.
There were twenty separate food items in front of him. That wasn’t even including the two orders of nachos, one of which was already finished. Was this his largest order yet? Luka, guiltily, couldn’t remember, as he had eaten Taco Bell for both lunch and dinner every day since the season had ended and the Mavericks’ grip on his meal plans had lessened. At the beginning, his orders had been reasonably sized, but as the days had progressed, the orders had gotten so large that one person couldn’t be expected to eat it all.
Unless that person was a rapidly-expanding Slovenian with an unexpected, but intense, craving for faux-Mexican food.
The chicken quesadilla was next. Followed by a beefy frito burrito. And then a chalupa of some kind. Luka lost track after a while as he entered into a greasy, salty haze of semi-consciousness. The tacos, gorditas, and burritos all blended into each other, not being enjoyed for their own merits, but instead, as part of the decadent gluttony that was a typical Taco Bell meal for Luka. A regular jolt of caffeine from his large cup of Baja Blast Mountain Dew was the only thing that tethered him to reality.
Luka was slumped over his desk, mindlessly cramming an entire handful of nacho fries into his mouth when his doorbell rang again. Having been conditioned by weeks of GrubHub deliveries to answer the door promptly, he staggered to his feet. He was halfway to the door when he realized that he didn’t remember having placed any food orders recently. But it was possible that he had unconsciously requested more Taco Bell from the service; the process for ordering was nearly automatic for him, and he didn’t even have to get out his credit card to make the payment.
Opening the door for a second time indeed revealed another, different, GrubHub delivery person. Luka dug out forty dollars from his pocket and handed it to the guy in exchange for the large bag of food, since he wasn’t sure how much he had initially tipped on the order. When the food was in his hands, his body immediately began reacting to the promise of more of the irresistible fast food, even though he could tell that his stomach was nearly full. With trudging steps he returned to his desk and repeated the ceremony of unpacking the food. It was still hot, and Luka knew that Taco Bell didn’t reheat well, so he was committed to eating it all.
But seeing that mountain of boxes and wrappers gave him an idea. He got out his phone and placed a call. “Hey Dorian, you wanna come over? I got Taco Bell.”