Picture the scene on a quiet Easter Sunday.
Good afternoon, Dominique's Pizza! Zoe speaking!
Hi Zoe. Can I order some pizza for delivery, please?
Yessir, but delivery is taking an hour and ten right now.
Thanks for the head's up, that's fine. Let's order.
Righto. What can I get you?
Oh, I'd like a medium Meaty Monster please.
With extra sauce and olives, hold the onions?
Hey, good guess!
Not at all, I remembered when I saw your address pop up.
Well, that's damned efficient of you!
Isn't technology grand? Can I get you anything else?
Yep, I need a bottle of Diet Croak too, please.
Done. Hey, we've not seen you in a while, have we?
That's right, I've been celebrating Lent.
Really? We're your favourite treat? That's cool.
You got me. Seven weeks, it's been tough.
Congratulations! And yes, your last order was February.
I tell you, it feels like longer. What do I owe you?
Well, fifteen for the pizza...
...but the Croak and some garlic bread is on the house.
That's bloody decent of you, Zoe. Thanks very much.
Our pleasure. And I'll get it to you as soon as it's done.
I don't know what to say. Again, thank you.
Not at all, Sir. Welcome back, Mr. Roth.
It's nice to be remembered, and worth double to be missed.
They got it here in twenty.
This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2012.
This true tale is dedicated to the always-excellent folk at Domino's Pizza.