So I am a big believer in eating a diet rich in whole foods, mostly because it is free of the crap that food companies love to add to their shit so their items can carry expiration dates that say, “Best before February, 3011.”
But every now and then I do get a carving for a dose of crap. I have been pretty good at limiting this, but I try not to be too hard on myself when I do need my fix of junk.
So last night I was jonesing for pizza. I generally don’t eat pizza, mainly because cheese sticks to me like glue.
It’s true! Next time you see me, toss a piece of cheese at me (please don’t throw it like a baseball though because I’ll be damned if I am going to be that guy who lost an eye to a piece of brie) and watch as it will latch onto me like a burr in a dog’s fur. It’s one of my less glamorous superpowers unfortunately.
So I hit the neighbourhood Pizza Pizza and being vegetarian, I naturally order a vegetarian pizza slice. Actually I order two. I’m not sure why I order two because one is filling enough, but with all my ventures, good or bad, it is either go big or go home.
The woman behind the counter, I have seen before. I suspect she is one of the owners as she always seems to be working. She makes me laugh because I think she is a nice woman, but she has been schooled in the art of, “How to talk nicely to customers and not mean it.”
So the conversation begins…
Mrs. Pizza Pizza: Hello sir. How are you sir? Can I help you sir?
Me: Good thanks. Could I have 2 vegetarian slices?
Mrs. Pizza Pizza: Of course sir. Is that to go sir or for here sir?
I quickly realize that every sentence she utters for our entire pizza transaction is going to contain sir and I have no clue how to make her stop. It’s like I am talking to an automated voice message, but without the commands that say, “Press 1 if you would like to have me stop saying ‘Sir’. Press 2 to have me say it in Espanol. Press 3 if you would like to see me attach a rocket pack to my back and fly off into space.”
Me: Ah, to go, but I don’t want a bag.
Mrs. Pizza Pizza: Is that to go sir? Do you want a bag sir?
Huh? What? Is she messing with me? Am I on mute? Did I temporarily render myself invisible? I hold up my hand to my face just to verify that I am in fact, not invisible. Whew! I am not.
Me: Yes to go and hold the bag.
Mrs. Pizza Pizza: To go sir?
What is going on here? I begin to wonder if I am one of those Seinfeld low-talker characters.
Me: Yes. To go. No bag. And put both slices on the same triangular thingy.
I am not overly pleased that I don’t actually know what to call that pizza slice holder. For Christ sakes it’s pizza technology, not nanotechnology. I make a mental note to bring a cheat sheet with me next time so I don’t come off looking like an idiot.
Mrs. Pizza Pizza: How would you like to pay for this sir?
At this point an Asian chap has come in and is waiting for his order as well. I turn and point to my new Asian friend.
Me: With his credit card please.
Mrs. Pizza Pizza: Excuse me sir? I’m sorry sir. I can’t do that sir.
I smile and think I am the funniest man on the planet at this particular moment.
Me: What! This is outrageous. I want to see the manager please.
Mrs. Pizza Pizza: But sir….
I quickly interrupt her realizing she thinks I am serious. It reminds of my days back teaching ESL (English as a Second Language for those who hate people who use work specific acronyms and assume everyone knows what they mean.)
I would let a few jokes fly and wait for my response. My mostly Asian students, having no clue what I have just said, but sensing I am seeking some sort of validation would simply respond by saying, “Thank you teacher. You good teacher. Thank you teacher.”
Of course, they would say this regardless of what I would say to them. The building could be on fire and I could shout out “Quick everyone, forget about yourselves! Get me to safety!” and they would be like, “Thank you teacher. You good teacher. Thank you teacher.”
Me: No I was just kidding. Sorry bad joke. Cash.
I doll out the $9.10 for two slices wondering what the hell happened to those days when pizza was a buck a slice. I then wonder when I became that guy who started comparing today’s prices to prices 20 years ago. I fear I may be entering a new phase of my life.
My pizza is now ready so Mrs. Pizza Pizza uses what looks like a poorly designed shovel to pull it out. My mind has decided to wander at this point, and I imagine how funny it would be to have utensils that size, you know, just as a joke.
Before I can carry my mental shenanigans any further, my pizza is placed on the counter.
I look down to see it isn’t what I ordered. It is vegetarian, but it is the Mediterranean, which is different from the plain ole vegetarian mainly because it has goat cheese on it. I’m not sure what it is with goat cheese, but I can’t stand the smell. At this particular moment it smells like…feet!
She has also put both slices in separate triangular thingies. My environmental footprint is beginning to look more like a well worn path.
I’m then quickly interrupted by more customer service 101.
Mrs. Pizza Pizza: Will that be all sir? Thank you sir. Have a good night sir. Come again sir.
I am tempted to say this is not what I ordered, but as I look up, I catch a glimpse of my pizza gal’s eyes. I am not sure if they are sad, but they are definitely distant, like she has other things on her mind; bigger things than 2 slices of pizza that now smell like the contents of a hockey bag full of equipment that hasn’t seen the light of day in weeks.
I realize that not everything that happens in this world is about me. Mistakes are made, for reasons that have nothing to do with me, for reasons that go beyond people being incompetent.
I decide that tonight, I will happily accept this mistake, if for no other reason than to give this woman one less thing to worry about.
It’s not a grand gesture on my part, but I realize I don’t have to make her life worse either by complaining that my order is incorrect.
Besides, when is the last time someone checked into hospital with a fatal case of smell poisoning?
To ideas worth quitting,
Dean
