I hate you, Papa John’s

Late last night I ordered a cheese pizza from Papa John’s. They delivered a sausage and pepperoni pizza. Fortunately I checked it before the deliveryperson left. She apologized, left the pizza with me and promised to send the cheese one soon. It took a long time and I was very hungry, so I ate some of the wrong pizza while waiting for the right one. This is fortunate because when the cheese pizza arrived, it seemed unusually pale. I tried some and it was half-raw. The pizza sucked. And by then it was too late to ask them to send a third.

I don’t know when they open, but the second they do I will be calling them with some very strong words. Shame on them.

The last time I got such crappy service from a pizza place was in Arkansas. I ordered one pizza and a guy showed up with two, both of which he insisted were mine, neither of which were the pizza I ordered. And at least that time, everyone in the dorm became my new best friend once they found out I had two unwanted pizzas on my hands.

Now I’m just hungry. I’ve got one inedible cheese pizza, and Michael ate the rest of the other.