Showing posts with label eating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Pizza Place Chick



Pizza Place Chick (Hereafter known simply as PPChick) Hello. . . Your Local Pizza Place. Can I help you?

Me: Yes, I'd like to place an order.

PPChick: Will that be for pick-up or delivery?

Me: I'll pick it up, but will you stand outside and throw it in my car so I don't have to park?

PPChick: Okay, sure. What do you want?

Me: I want a large order of your macaroni and cheese. I've seen it on your menu but I've always been ashamed to order it. . . but you see . . . the rest of the family won't be home tonight. . . and I always save my macaroni and cheese pig-outs for when I'm all alone and no one can judge me . . . you know what I mean?

PPChick: Yeah, I know. . .

Me: And - truth be told - I've had a really bad day . . . and I need that comfort food now!

PPChick: What was so bad about it?

Me: Well the first thing my eyes were drawn to when I went downstairs this morning was a parking ticket magnetized to the refrigerator . . . compliments of Ponzi, I'm sure. . . and then I purposely arrived at work a half-hour early but the people I was meeting showed up forty-five minutes late. . . throwing off my funeral timing completely . . . and I mean . . . completely. . . . it was the last of five funerals. . . knock wood. . . and then the office worker who I thought was coming never exactly showed up. . . and then there was a lot of turf warfare going on. . . very un-church-like if you ask me. . . and then when I got back home there were dishes in the sink. . . I ask you. . . is there no one in the family who can put a dish in the dishwasher?. . . not one?. . . well . . . anyway. . . then the pizza-resistance (pardon my pun) came when I went to the mailbox and received yet another rejection letter from a literary agent in the mail . . . I don't know why the hell those people have no taste. . . I could make millions for them. . . but I guess you don't want to hear all of this from me now. . . do you?

PPC: So. . . about the macaroni and cheese. . . when do you want to pick it up?

Me: Well, when will it be ready?

PPC: I don't know! We haven't made it yet! I've been on the phone with you the whole time!

Me: Will you just call me when it's ready?

PPC: Yeah!

Me: Do you need my number?

PPC: No. . . we have caller I.D.

Me: Okay. . . You'll call me. . . right? You won't forget? Promise me you won't forget???? 'Cause I'm not giving you a tip if you forget. . .

PPC: No, I won't forget!!!

Me: So how much will that be?

PPC: Let's see. . . with the family discount, it comes to exactly three dollars.

Me: That's it?

PPC: Yeah, Mom! That's it! Can we get off the phone so I can place your order now?

Me: Okay. . . Bye honey. . .

PPC: Bye Mom . . .

Me: And Trigger?

PPC: What?

Me: Are you always this fresh to your customers on the phone??? No wonder no one's been putting any money in that tip jar!!!