So I ordered a pizza about ten minutes ago, from the same place I always order them. I order the exact same thing I always do. The lady on the phone says “We don’t deliver anything under $8.” Bullplop.
The conversation goes like this:
Me: That’s gotta be a mistake.
Pizza Lady: No.
Me: Look, I’ve ordered this from you guys dozens of times, and you’ve always delivered, and it’s always been under $8.
Pizza Bitch: Ummm… the total is 6.11, but you have to come pick it up.
Me: I know that's not right. Could you check?
Pizza @%^#: Hold on.
Big silence.
Supervisor: Yeah, it’ll be there in 55 minutes.
I’m picturing them taking turns jumping on it in the back room.
So, everybody, what do you think will be wrong with the pizza when I get it? Spit? Earwax? Some other bodily secretion, perhaps? A little sign on the bottom of the box that says YOU HAVE JUST BEEN EXPOSED TO ANTHRAX?
I always thought it would be funny to put a hell of a lot of those crushed red peppers underneath the sauce, so you wouldn’t notice until you bit into it, which would be too late. Of course, that would be noticeable, and something you could complain about.
nah they probably told a homeless guy to wipe his underwear on it or wipe his smeggy cock onto it (but then American men are mostly circumcised) for that extra cheesy taste ick.
Or at least asked him to lick it. Maybe she was new the order taker , or just a change of policy
such as cheese-and-a-half if you ordered double cheese, or two inches of crust with no sauce or toppings. No biggy, you say? Not me. The possibility of eating Bad Pizza haunts me… I know that somewhere it lies in wait, its chewy insipid dough, tomato-soupish sauce, and chem-lab ersatz cheese poised to assault my refined palate. And not where I expect it — Pizza Slut, Abomino’s, that cut-rate corner shop with all manner of greasy inedibles — but lurking in some inviting independent place, like Trotsky in a Mexico City cantina… Bad Pizza is abroad in the land, and an encounter would traumatize me for life. Not like a Bad Haircut, let alone (dear God!) Bad Sex, but still a horror that chills my blood.
It sounds to me like you just had an idiot answer the phone and I’m sure her coworkers know shes an idiot so hopefully nothing will happen to your pizza.
That is of course unless you are known for being a lousy tiper… then all bets are off!