Pizza bent and Hut bound.


July 12, 2009 by sandwichcontrol

Pancake Land and I had our hearts set on pizza Friday night. Actually we’ve been talking about wanting pizza for a little over a week. After the huge disappointment with the Pizza Hut that is nearby, I decided to take a slightly more determined approach. First, let me say that our neighborhood Pizza Hut has given us nothing but trouble since we started ordering from them years ago. Most recently, this past Friday night, I went to pick up an order, we had placed online, from our neighborhood store. I pulled up to the window, gave some guy the name, he gave me the total amount due, I handed him Pancake Land’s card (which had our last twenty dollars on it), a woman came to the window and informed that they could not honor the card (which is insane because they had honored it on multiple occasions), so I returned home empty handed and full of rage. The rage grew as Pancake Land checked her balance online to ensure that we actually have twenty dollars and discovered that Pizza Hut actually charged the card. In fact they tried to run it three times. Luckily, it only had twenty dollars on it and the card was denied the second and third times. So, I called the Hut and informed them that our card had actually been charged and that I would like to come get my pizzas. The guy who “helped” me at the window informed me that the charge did not show up in their computer system and therefore he could not give me my pizza. I could, however, call this number in California (Monday through Friday, 8am until 5pm Pacific time) and they would “help” me sort out the charge issue. At this point I decide that some face cutting is called for so I begin preparing my straight razor to drink deep from the wells of blood of Pizza Hut employees. Pancake Land and I talk it over while smoking a secret cigarette seated on the bathroom floor, and I realize that my blood lust is not the best course of action, because, although I will feed on the living guts of my Pizza Hut enemies, Pancake Land will still be unfed. And thatsa no good. So, I decide to whip up some food chemistry and get us fed. But, needless to say, my neighborhood Pizza Hut sucks. I am sure that when I called, the seventeen year old kid who was pissed off about working on a Friday night, and who will surely cope with this by getting more facial piercings, walked outside to the entire rest of the staff who is standing around smoking and having a good ol’ time, asked his “supervisor” what to do and she fed him some official corporate Pizza Hut mumbo jumbo, which he regurgitated to me over the phone (unknowingly offering his own living guts to my blade) and bid me have a great weekend. So, back to the story about a more determined approach. Saturday’s dinner time rolls around and I had made a little cash helping my Dad out so we, being still unappeazed in the pizza department, decide to order pizza again. This time we order it from a different Pizza Hut. Not our neighborhood Pizza Hut, but someone else’s neighborhood Pizza Hut, which is on the other side of town. So, we place the order online, I go there, the employees are hard at work and wait on me with enthusiasm. Night and day. Our neighborhood Pizza Hut is like a dark mob front of an Italian restaurant and this place is like a well lit Mom-and-Pop mob front of an Italian restaurant. It is a weirdly comfortable place to be. Within minutes I have my pizzas and I am on my way. My neighborhood Pizza Hut can suck it. From now on I am ordering from the someone else’s heighborhood Pizza Hut. In fact, to order from there we had to give me a fake address near their location, because Pizza Hut’s website wants to auto-generate your neighborhood store based on your address, with no option to order from a different store. Rest assured, I will have words with their people come Monday morning, Pacific time of course. Well, I am going to go do something else now. Maybe cut paper. Maybe cut Pizza Hut employees. Whatever I end up doing, it won’t be until I finish this cup of coffee. More soon. ~SC


  1. TeacherSis says:

    Cut the bitches…

  2. Dave says:

    You should throw a “make your own pizza” pizza party. Lots of different toppings in little bowls, some doughy crust substance and some sauces. And then cook em up and eat em. MmMMhmmm. Also fire bomb pizza hutt.

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