Ordering Lunch

Being a top dog at the Place of Lawyerly Things, it occasionally falls to me to make the tough decisions. Things like: Is this an event worth celebrating as an office? And if so, what food do we order for the minions’ Congratulatory Lunch? Yep. I am a Person of Importance. I make Big Decisions. And then I generally let my administrative assistant take over and magically, the food shows up and we are all fed. It’s a great system.

This morning, I felt that office morale was more or less in the toilet and nobody was appropriately excited for the upcoming weekend. The troops needed to be perked up. After all, it is Friday. Joy should be felt across the land. Or at least my office. I decided it was too late to plan a post-work Happy Hour, plus I have post-work plans. Instead, I opted to break out the Lawyerly Credit Card and have my admin order pizzas for my team’s lunch. Just as I was about to talk to Admin Wonder about the merits of Papa Johns versus Luigi’s, she approached me with a personal emergency. Everything will be fine eventually; she just needed to leave for the rest of the day. Not a problem. I would hold down the fort: do my own copies and order the pizza. I broke out the credit card, a menu, and dialed.

Them: Pick up or delivery?

Me: Delivery please. (and I gave them the information for the Place of Lawyerly Things)

Them: Whats you want?

Me: I need six pizzas please. Are you running any specials?

Them: Yeah. Five larges for $50. Up to five toppings each.

Me: Great. I’ll do that and get an additional pizza. (And I went on to order five specialty pizzas in order to eek the most value out of the special as I could) And I’ll have an extra large cheese.

Them: Slow down. I didn’t get nothin’ past your veggie luva.

Me: (going through the order again, speaking l………..i……….. k……………e t…………….h……………….I………………s) And an extra large cheese, please.

Them: You said you only want five pizzas. Now you want six?

Me (eye roll): Yes. At the beginning, I said I needed six pizzas and you told me about the special. So, I want to get the special and then an extra large cheese.

Them: Computer not lettin’ me do that. You can only order five per order.

Me (thinking about stabbing my hand with a paperclip because it might distract me from the pain my brain was experiencing while talking to this moron): Um, so I can’t get my sixth pizza.

Them: I just says you only get five. So your total is…

Me: Wait, I wasn’t done ordering. I need to add more.

Them: You sounded done.

Me (wondering if the Vulcan Mind Melt really does work, and if so, does this person have any mind left to melt): You said talk slowly, so I did. Talking slowly does not mean I was done ordering. I still need to get a dessert pizza and breadsticks and drinks.

Them: What kind of dessert pizza you want?

Me: The cinnamon kind.

Them: We have two. Swirly and Regular.

Me: I’ll have Regular, please.

Them: We don’t carry that no more.

Me: So you only have Swirly.

Them: That’s what I says.

Me (head hits the desk repeatedly): Uh huh. So you don’t actually have two; you just have Swirly.

Them: NO, we got two. Swirly and Regular.

Me: But I can only order Swirly.

Them: Yeah.

Me (trying to reign in my overwhelming urge to go Xena, Warrior Princess on their ass): OK, give me a Swirly.

Them: So your total is…

Me (our species is doomed if this is the result of millions of years of evolution): WAIT! I still need breadsticks and drinks.

Them: I put on an order of breadsticks. What kinda drinks you want?

Me: A 2 Liter of Coke, Diet Coke and Sprite please.

Them: You knows them the Big Ones, right? Them 2 Liters.

Me (who is totally feeling enlightened, having learned 2 Liters are the Big Ones): Yeah, we need the Big Ones.

Them: What kind you want again.

Me (pounding fist on desk): Coke, Diet Coke and Sprite.

Them: That all? That all you want on this order?

Me (telling self that this is nearing the end and I can hold on, just a few more minutes): Yes, thanks.

*click*

Me (disbelief that words cannot begin to describe): They did not just hang up on me.

*sits there for a minute*

*stunned*

*calls back, sort of trance like*

Me (after the same person answered): Hi, do you want to get my credit card information or is lunch free today?

Them: Oh. Yeah. Guess that’d be good. Visa?

Me: AmEx.

Them: Visa?

Me: American Express.

Them: What? Visa?

Me: AMERICAN FREAKIN’ EXPRESS.

Them: So it’s not a Visa?

Me: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGh.

They could hear me scream in Foggy Bottom. I swear.

So I hung up and ordered from the other place.

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2 Responses to “Ordering Lunch”

  1. restaurantrefugee Says:

    Clearly he was moonlighting from his regular gig at CVS.

  2. Me Says:

    Priceless!!!

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