Papa John’s Delivers

They have a box for special driver instructions. People should take advantage of that more often.



In other recent(ish) news, someone left mushrooms on my car. I do not know why.



It is possible that this was a bizarre act of aggression on the part of some cranky harpies that live across the street from us. John parked behind the BMW of one of their friends one evening when he got home from work. She walks across the street and asks him if he could park somewhere else, because she was not sure if there was enough room for her to get out of the parking space. John took a moment to assess the space she actually had, factored in the complete lack of empty spaces on our street, then looked at the girl and asked “Do you live here?” To which she replies “No, I’m just visiting.” At that point John bid her good evening and headed into the apartment.

I have my doubts as to the act of aggression theory, for a couple of reasons.

  1. 1.) I did not actually see them do it.
  2. 2.) Putting mushrooms on someone’s car is not a particularly aggressive act


Also, it could have been elves.

I could do without all the people.

Which people, you ask? All of them. Him. Her. You.

I’m well aware that people are prone to the occasional contretemps or miscalculation – I am generally a very forgiving person. But recent efforts put forth by multiple institutions to complicate my life have been, I assure you, nothing short of epic. I mean, I don’t want to come out and say conspiracy just yet, but it certainly bears a striking resemblance to a collaborative exercise.

Offense the first: Some weeks ago, I ordered pizza from a place called Hounddog’s in the campus area. The total came to $18 and change, including tip. A few days later, I went online to pay some bills from my bank, and I noticed that my account was nearly $1000 overdrawn. I didn’t panic immediately – figuring there was simply a charge that had been charged in error to my account. Indeed, it was so. Hounddog’s charged me $1,678 for a pizza. To be fair, it was a large pizza, but the charge still seemed off somehow.

I called my bank immediately – happily there were no overdraft charges appearing on my account just yet. I assured them the charge was a mistake and that I would call the merchant directly after hanging up with them. I called the restaurant – they said they caught the mistake seconds after it went through and they had already reversed it. Excellent. Back to dealing with the bank – told them the story and asked if I would be subject to fees since the charge had already been reversed and no fees had appeared yet. Unfortunately charges to the account go through immediately while credits take several days to clear, meaning that I would, in fact, be charged fees for each day my account was overdrawn.

“Sorry, there’s nothing we can do about that.” Goddammit.

In addition, I had made several other charges on the card, unaware that I actually had no money at the time. I got fees for each of those charges too. And since it was the restaurant’s fault, the bank wants me to get reimbursed for the nearly $300 in fees from Hounddog’s before even talking to me about what they can do to fix it. This all happened around June 25, and I’m still trying to get them to pay up.

Offense the second: My electric company grossly underestimated my bill over the last couple of months. So when they did an actual reading, I got hit with a $500 electric bill to cover the difference. That wouldn’t suck quite so hard if my checking account wasn’t $300 short . . .

Offense the third: After I switched my cell phone over to a company paid plan, I got a prorated bill from Verizon for the portion of the month during which the phone was still my responsibility. I attempt to login to my account on Verizon’s site to pay. However, as the account is not technically mine anymore, I no longer have access to the online utilities. Fine. So, I call them to make a payment over the phone. The woman asks for my phone number and looks up the associated account. She informs me that I’m not showing any balance on that account – it has apparently been taken care of. This sounds like good news to me, so I leave it at that.

A month later, I get another bill. I make another phone call. I get more assurance that I owe nothing on that account.

Today, I got a notice from Verizon that they are about to turn my account over to a collection agency. I try once again to pay the bill over the phone. I give the woman my phone number, my social security number and a number present on the nasty “you owe us money” letter. She finds the account – and says “Oh, you let this get very overdue – we’re about to write this off for collections.” I say, yes, I know. May I please pay it over the phone? This issue looks to be at rest now – I’m told I’ll get a receipt in the mail in a few days confirming it as a dead issue. Plus I have her name and a confirmation number, just in case I need to attach a name to a fuck up this time. You may yet hear from me again, Tammy.

Domino’s Announces New Higher Employees

I ordered some pizza from Domino’s last night, which is usually a mistake in and of itself. However, we were having trouble tracking down a place that offers garlic butter sauce. As a rule, I try not to eat anything that I can’t dip in butter – but I digress. I find that I must share the contents of the following phone order:

.
.
.
me: So does the cheesy bread come in different sizes?
PizzaStoner: No, it’s just the one.
me: Oh, ok.
PizzaStoner: It’s actually the same bread we use for the cinnastix.
PizzaStoner: It just has our 2 cheese and herb blend on it instead.
me: Ok.
PizzaStoner: And the cinnastix of course have the cinnamon and sugar
PizzaStoner: just sprinkled over them,
PizzaStoner: . . .which is like a whole other flavor than the cheesy bread.
me: um, ok . . .
PizzaStoner: Plus, the cheese is heavier than the sugar and cinnamon,
PizzaStoner: so it feels like more.
PizzaStoner: It really is a totally different experience.
me: o-k . . . so what kind of sauces can I get?
PizzaStoner: Well, the cinnastix come with the delicious sweet sauce.
me: And what about other sauces – like for the cheesy bread?
PizzaStoner: That comes with marinara.
me: Do you have any garlic sauce?
PizzaStoner: . . .
PizzaStoner: . . .
PizzaStoner: um . . .yeah, but that’s like more.
PizzaStoner: That’s an extra quarter.
PizzaStoner: Or fifty cents, or thirty-five cents or something.
PizzaStoner: I think that costs extra.
me: Ok, I’d like two garlic sauces and an extra marinara.
PizzaStoner: What?
me: Two garlic and two marinara total.
PizzaStoner: The garlic sauces are gonna cost extra.

At this point I’m hearing Billy Bob Thornton’s voice in my head from Bad Santa – “Are you fuckin with me kid?!”.

Then when he comes to the door, he needs my credit card to run through on a receipt. Only, instead of a machine or carbon paper, he puts the card against the doorframe, places the receipt over it and proceeds to rub it with a dollar bill. To address the strangeness of his actions, he holds up the dollar and says, “These work real good because they’re never clean. They dirt always leaves marks.”

I’m gonna make a guess here and say that this is not standard Domino’s procedure when taking credit card orders. I’d even go so far as to venture that Space Ace just didn’t have it together enough to remember to grab whatever it is they need to use for credit cards.

Hmm.

I’m actually wondering if he even works at Domino’s. There’s every possibility that he was just voted least stoned by his buddies and was elected to go pick up pizza. Why didn’t they just order by phone themselves? Who knows? Maybe the concept of a phone call was just a bit much to deal with by that point. (“Man, there’s like, a guy talking to me right now and his isn’t even *here*. But his voice, his *voice* is just right here in the *phone*, and that is FREAKING me out right now. You’re gonna have to go order the pizza there.)

He just happened to be standing alone at the counter when I called and thought he’d be helpful and answer phones. And make and deliver pizza. And obtain my credit card number. I’d be worried about identity theft if I thought he’d even remember where he was last night. Still, maybe I should check my statement for any recent purchases of “water pipes”.