Welcome To The Pizza California

Somebody is sucking all the joy out of Hillmomba faster than Casey at the bat in Mudville.

We have a new gourmet restaurant. Perhaps you've heard of it. Domino's. That's right. Imagine the good fortune of the folks who have grown fat and and sassy on the fare of Subway, gas station chicken, and Casey's pizza. They have a variety now. Two choices of pizza. Okay, four if you are a stickler, because our Subway has mini-pizzas, and the 44 oz. Diet Coke convenience store also sells carryout pizza.

I called one in on the way home from school. It was duty day, you know. Always a good occasion to celebrate the end of with some take-out bring-home food to avoid standing at the kitchen counter. We've never had an issue with Domino's before. Unlike Mr. Lunchtablemate, who bit down on a penny and couldn't wangle it into a lifetime of leisure, but rather ended up paying most of his own dental bills as well. He is not a pit bull owner. And he used a totally different Domino's. Anyhoo...our new Hillmomban Domino's has been open since December. You didn't think it was the Hillbilly family's first Domino's rodeo, did you?

The moment I called, I should have sensed there would be an issue. Okay. I DID. In fact, when The Pony clambered back into T-Hoe after paying for gas, I told him, "I'll be amazed if we actually get what we ordered." To start with, I was put on hold. That's fine. Other people need pizza too. But three minutes on hold is a bit excessive. Still, they didn't leave me hangin', those Dominolts.

"Do you still have the three-topping large for $7.99?"

"Yes."

"That's what I want."

"It's carry out."

"I know. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday."

"Go ahead."

"I want half cheese...and half sausage, bacon, and Canadian bacon."

"You don't want cheese on the other half?"

"Um...I want it to be normal pizza with sausage, bacon, and Canadian bacon. The other half is just cheese with no other toppings."

"Oh! Sorry. My mistake. What kind of crust?"

"Hand tossed." There was silence. About a minute.

"Uh, let me just re-calculate that special. It will be $8.63. It will be ready in twenty minutes."

We stopped for a 44 oz. Diet Coke. With a lot of ice. Because it IS only Wednesday. Only two minutes remained on our ready clock when we pulled into the Domino's lot. I sent in my minion, The Pony. He held the door open to let an old lady out, then paid, then waited. And waited. After six minutes had passed, the counter girl came out and spoke to him. He bolted back to T-Hoe. "They messed up our order. Didn't leave it half cheese. So she says they'll make me a medium cheese pizza for free, but it will take six minutes." What was I to do? He had already paid. He won't eat meaty pizza. So we sat on the lot while tiny sleet pellets bounced off T-Hoe's muddy-kitty-footprinted hood. The old lady The Pony let out was sitting in her car. Waiting. People who went in after The Pony were milling around the store. Waiting.

"That place is a freakin' Hotel California. You can pay any time you like, but you can never leave."

"They are different people than we usually deal with. Only that little girl knows what she's doing. While I was in there, the two guys who usually wait on me came in from delivering."

"I know. I was sitting right here. Only that short guy looked familiar."

"Yeah. He's the one that was riding the broom like a horse the last time we were here."

Thankfully, there was no coinage baked into the crust of my pizza.