The Civee and I spent the past week visiting my mother in Portland, Oregon. In Portland, the weather is nice (categorized as nice by virtue of being above freezing), the landscape varied and the food choices/cultures abundant.
We returned to frigid Columbus today, and tired of our travelling, we decided to keep it simple and order pizza. I called to have it delivered from a place that shall go nameless (*cough PAPAJOHNS *cough) and had the following conversation:
Him: Hello and thank you for calling — would you like to try the deluxesuperfamiliyvaluedealfortwentyfiveninetynine?
Me: Excuse me?
Him: Would you like to try the deluxe super family value deal for twenty five ninety-nine?
Me: What is included in that?
Him: Ummm…I’m not sure. Hold on a second.
Me: Nevermind. I’ll have a large pie.
Him: We don’t sell pies, we sell pizzas.
Me: Ever hear of a pizza pie, chief?
Him: Oh. A large pizza.
Me: Yeah, half plain, half sausage peppers and onions.
Him: Sooo…on that one side, no cheese or sauce?
How tough is it to order a freakin’ pizza on a Saturday night? A few days ago I was having this great Phở and now I have to convince a guy working at [CENSORED] that yes, I do want a pizza with cheese and tomato sauce. Oh well, at least I didn’t have to order from Donatos.