The pizza guy was 20 minutes late, which mattered not at all. I’d invited friends over to watch a ballgame on TV and decided a cheesy burger pizza delivered straight to my door would be just the thing. I knew better than to try ordering by phone, so I pulled up the store’s website and–after jumping through lots of hoops–ordered what I wanted and paid with my credit card. I included a generous tip for the driver.
He didn’t arrive at the requested time. No big deal. Traffic in Cookeville is horrible, no matter the day or time. My friends and I talked and laughed and watched a little baseball and nobody starved to death. When the driver finally pulled up to my house, he apologized profusely. I assured him it was okay. And the pizza—sizzlin’ beef, diced tomatoes, dill pickles, gooey cheese and burger sauce– was definitely worth the wait.
Imagine my surprise and delight when, just a few days later, I received a postcard from the pizza company in the mail. “Give us another chance,” it said. “FREE MEDIUM CHEESE PIZZA.”
Wow, I thought. They didn’t have to do that, but what a nice surprise. And I knew just when I was going to use that coupon. The pizza store is almost directly across the road from the salon where I get my hair cut. I’d stop by before my next appointment and place my order and then pick it up when my hairdresser was finished with me.
That’s not exactly what happened.
I parked in front of the store. The young woman behind the counter smiled as I walked in. I handed her the coupon and told her I’d like to pick up my pizza in about half an hour. “I can’t take this order here,” she said. “You have to do it online to get the deal.” I suppose my mouth fell open, but I could tell by the look in her eyes she wasn’t kidding.
“So…you want me to stand three feet away from you and order this pizza on my phone?”
She nodded.
With my tired old eyes staring at the tiny font on my phone screen, I pulled up the pizza company’s website, selected my preferred location—the one I was actually standing in—and typed in the coupon code that would allow me to get a medium cheese pizza for free. But first I was required to enter my email and password.
“I don’t remember my password,” I told the clerk. She said to tap the I-forgot-my-password button. Then I should check my email, think up a new password, type it in and send it back to the website. Yeah, but. After waiting several minutes, no email from the pizza company ever came through. I handed the clerk—still smiling, though I’m not sure it was sincere—my phone. “Will you try?” I asked. She did. And failed.
“I’m not blaming you for this,” I told her. “But I’m pretty sure your corporate office doesn’t really want me to have a free cheese pizza.” She looked at me without expression. “Could I talk to your manager?” I asked.
“I’m the shift manager,” she answered. “The store manager’s not here but I can try to call him.” She did and explained the situation, with me listening to every word. Then she hung up and accepted my in-person order. She collected the coupon (“surrender upon redemption”) and told me my pizza would be ready in half an hour.
I was a few minutes late for my appointment but my hairdresser assured me she understood. We both got a good laugh over the story. And my pizza was, indeed, hot and ready when I got back to the store. As to whether it was worth all I went through to get it, probably not.
But a free cheesy burger pizza might have been.
(August 10, 2024)