Wed 20 Jun, 2007 03:38 pm
So, I thinking about dinner, and in my head pops "Pizza would be good" I look on line and see you order a specialty pizza and get a one topping large one free.
I call home..."How'd you like pizza for dinner?"
"OK, I was going to get the Garden Special, on the free pizza, do you want sausage or pepperoni"
ummm.....I think sausage....
"Ok, love ya, bye."
can you get onions on that too? and just pay for the one topping?
"well, I'll ask, but you know they can be weird, remember when we asked for something like that they said no, and you'd have to pay for the whole thing.....do you want me to pick another special that has both sausage and onions?"
"Let me call you back, I'm on the other line anyway"
(whistle, hum hum)
"Hi. One of these specialty pizzas has bacon, pepperoni, onions and green peppers....hows that"
I don't like pepperoni (aside....close to 15 years of marriage and I find out he doesn't like pepperoni...my head is starting to ache, and my stomach tightens up)
"OK, look....that's the deal, they aren't going to change it. Do you want to just forget it?"
oh, just order what you want.
"sigh....I just wanted a pizza without making it a big deal."
can't I just pay for one extra topping?
OK, I know it's not that bad reading this, but....this has been a conversation I have had with about a thousand different people over the course of my life....when I was a kid, we didn't have too many traditions, but there was one....every week or 2 we would get pizza.
one plain, one with sausage, one with pepperoni....we get it, eat it with hot sweet creamy tea, and watch Marlin Perkins on Mutual of Ohmaha's Wild Kingdom. No one discussed toppings, you ate a slice of each, or just from one pie...perfect harmony.
The pizza saga today didn't end there, there was another phone call, which I won't repeat except to say we will not be having pizza tonight.
When did ordering a pizza become as complicated as signing a mortgage?
Ordering pizza for a group is enough to implode anyone's head.
I, too, get weirdly tense and grumpy as the irreconcileable "I can't eat thats" and "I don't like thats" mount up, along with the "but we HAVE to have thats!"
You can get half and halfs here, which helps.....and there don't seem to be as many rules about not adding this and that.....but still.
I hardly even ever HAVE pizza, too....but still I can recall the tension.
This is when I really appreciate Setanta.
There is always a variety of good pizzas in my freezer. He doesn't mind what pizzas get heated up as long as he gets enough to share some with the dogs. He's even a good sport about the occasional "gourmet" pizzas I get the idea to buy when they're on special.
Dr. Oetker's Spinacci or Funghii pizza, anyone?
I don't eat pizza much either, but when I get the urge for one, I want one that's made out of pizza dough, tomato sauce and cheese. period. All that other stuff is messing with perfection.
A year of so after I married, I went to a girlfriends house, where she said she was inviting just other women over....a hen party.
Well, besides the fact it turned out to be a bitch session about men (everyone else was single) and was getting boring listening to the "I can't find a good man" thing (hey, I bagged mine). We went through the traditional "watch a chick flick and eat pizza" thing...What's Love Got to Do With It was the obvious movie choice.
OK, my girlfriend is Italian, we grew up together in New Jersey. We'd eaten a slice and coke together a hundred times. She knows good pizza.
After about 4 hours of deciding what was supposed to be on it by those who didn't realize that was blasphemy, my friend picks up the phone and orders from....Domino's....her noni was spinning in her grave.
Now we have to do the "chipping in for the pizzas"
OK, everybody...that's going to be a total of $40 dollars...chip in...
So, as women do all over, a calculator was pulled out and higher math performed (all the while the movies playing and you can't hear a f*cking thing)....
Ok, that will come to....uhh...$6.67 cents a piece.
god....so I throw in $8 and try to watch Angela Basset get beat up....
Everyone throws in their money, but...Hey, we only got $30....plus we have to tip the driver...
Chaos ensues as no one can figure out why if each of us paid all this money we are short.
I think...yeah whatever...here's another dollar and toss it in.
Someone's digging for change....another is saying she put in more than enough and isn't even going to eat but one slice.
I REALLY want to watch this movie, so DAMMIT to hell here and hand someone a 5 dollar bill. After more bickering, there's enough for the pizza and a really bad tip.
Food finally arrives, I take a slice of what looks like cardboard with a raw onion on it, but frankly, I'm famished. That just whet my appetite, so although I didn't see anyone else taking more food (women are so weird) I finally said, damn I'm hungry and open the nearest box.
I peek in the other boxes...seeing remnants of hardened cheese, and a black olive. In the last box, was an inch wide sliver, I guess cut from the piece of the chick who was going to eat just one slice.
$14.00 for a slice of really really crappy pizza.
Hey, I like anything but seafood on my pizza.
I can never figure out why everyone gets so anal about the toppings -- if there's something on your slice that you don't like, pick it off -- that's the great thing about pizza, FCS.
And those calculator chicks, grrrrr. Everyone throw in $10, give the delivery guy a decent tip, and if there's anything left over, donate it to charity or leave it for the hostess (who has probably shelled out for drinks and other munchies or, since it's a girl party, gone through a ton of toilet paper).
As for dinner with husband -- just get the damned thing. If he doesn't like it, he can order next time. (But I bet if it just shows up in front of his face, he'd eat it anyway, no matter what's on it.)
Oh I know Tico...I was just pissed off.
More I was thinking how freaking complicated people make some things that should just be a simple thing.
In this case, the pizza, silly as it sounds, represents uncomplicated pleasure, not having to decide between specials and do we want cheese sticks etc.
That's why most of the time I'll get somebody else to order it, can't deal with the pressure.
I think its part of the commercial attempt to "personalize" fast food. The restaurant gets the money and the innocent bystanders get the aggro.