I don't know if it's really just me. I haven't seen either of my flatmates ever have the amount of difficulty that I do when I'm ordering pizza. I have a clear voice. I enunciate. I speak at an appropriate volume.

So why the fuck can't employees of the local pizza place ever manage to understand what I'm saying?

A transcript of me ordering pizza on July 26, 2000.

(Where PP is Pizza Person and Me is me)

PP: Hello, Four Star Pizza, hold the line, please.

Me: (holds the line)

PP: Hello, what can I get you?

Me: Could I get an American Classic and...

PP: That's one American Classic?

Me: Yes, and...

PP: That'll be thirty minutes or so.

Me: I actually want to order some more things...

PP: (annoyed, apparently unable to grasp the word 'and'): What do you want?

Me: I'd like two ham and cheese subs and a medium...

PP: We've no lettuce!

Me: What?

PP: We've no lettuce.

Me: Well, alright, skip the lettuce then.

PP: Alright, that'll be about forty minutes...

Me: Er. I also wanted to order a medium...

PP: Oh, right. What do you want?

Me: A medium pizza with pepperoni, salami...

PP: We've no pepperoni!

Me: Pardon me?

PP: We've no pepperoni!

Me: But the American Classic is pepperoni and cheese. How can you have no pepperoni?

PP: Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Well, we can't give you an American Classic.

Me: Alright, then could I get a medium pizza with ham, salami, jalapeno peppers and extra cheese?

PP: Alright. So that's two ham and cheese subs, a medium with ham, salami, jalapenos and extra cheese and an American Classic.

Me: No, actually you don't have any American Classics. You're out of pepperoni.

PP: Oh, that's right. Would you like something else instead?

Me: Yea, can I get a medium pizza with barbeque sauce, chicken and extra cheese?

PP: Right. Medium pizza with barbeque sauce, chicken and extra cheese. That'll be about thirty minutes. (I'm convinced these numbers are arbitrary.)

(An hour passes and the pizzas and subs arrive. Mysteriously, my pizza is not present. Instead, there is a pizza with ham, salami, onions and chicken on it. Confused, I call the pizza place.)

PP: Hello?

Me: I ordered a pizza from you...

PP: What's the address?

Me: 28 Johnstown House.

PP: Alright, and it's still not there?

Me: Well, the pizzas are here. One of them just isn't the right pizza.

PP: Oh. Should we send over another?

Me: Yes.

PP: That'll be about thirty minutes. Thank you!

Me: Would you like to know what kind of pizza?

PP: Oh, sorry.

Me: A medium with barbeque sauce, chicken and extra cheese.

PP: Right. That'll be about forty minutes. Could you give the wrong pizza to the driver?

Me: Er. Sure. Yea.

PP: Thank you, bye!

(Another hour passes. It is now half past midnight. I'm not even hungry any more. The pizza man (PM) arrives with the pizza. I attempt to give him the mis-sent pizza.)

PM: She told you to give me the old pizza?

Me: Yea...

PM: Fuck that, keep it.

Me: Cool.

1) I'm teetering on the brink of incoherence.
2) Pizza place employees are teetering on the brink of incompetence.

Pizza delivery guys are cool.

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