Pizza Pizza, nom nom nom

I find myself in some of the most ridiculous situations sometimes. About an hour ago, I went to Subway. They were sliding the sandwich down the counter when the girl dumped two handfuls of lettuce onto my sandwich. I hate lettuce. She just looks at me with the ‘I hate everyone look’ and says, “what else?” I say, “I don’t want lettuce.” To which she replies, “did you want me to take it off piece by piece?” This reminds me of a story when I got a pizza delivered that hadn’t been cut. Yes, it was jut a round pizza. Not cut into squares. Not cut into slices. Nothing. When it was delivered, I couldn’t believe it. Of course I didn’t find out until I was back in my room. Then again  who the hell meets the pizza guy at the door and opens it up on the spot. “Oh let’s see what we have WHY ISN’T THIS CUT!?” Once I made my discovery, I was on the horn. I called them up immediately and read them the riot act. I said, “What kind of operation you guys got going over there? You’ve got one job, pizza. Are you kidding me? I wanna speak to your boss. Get me the owner! I’ve got the  the Better Business Bureau on the other line right now pal!”

I didn’t say anything like that. I simply said, “the pizza was not cut.” The response was unbelievable.  No apology. No “sorry, the next one’s on us.” The clown on the other end of the phone started laughing and replied, “what would you like us to do, send the driver back with a pizza cutter?” Imagine me holding an antique rotary phone in my hand while laughter echos out of it. I imagine the people (all dressed as clowns) at the restaurant having a big laugh about this. Joking to themselves, “Not only did this guy order a small individual pizza, but we didn’t cut it either. Just wait til he sees this! He’s probably sitting there trying to eat it and doesn’t know where to begin!” Well, I did figure out how to eat that pizza. I had to cut it with a scissors. As I went to take the first bite, the cheese fell off and burned my face off.


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