Ok, so aside from the implications this (slightly corny) title might give regarding verbal harassment, I assure you that I have no intentions of discussing bullying. I wish, instead, to report on a greater travesty that my friend and I underwent not too long ago.
Just to start off, have you ever (randomly/out of the blue/just for kicks and giggles) wanted a specific food? Yes, of course you have (and if you are in that .89% who have no idea what this means...just nod your head and read on). I have a friend, let's call her 'Alex', who impressed upon me the importance and deliciousness of the magical 'breadstick'. Oddly enough, it was a food item neither of us had enjoyed in some time...so we decided to fix that. One fateful night (yes, that was for dramatic flair) we piled into her pick-up and drove off to the nearest pizza place (no names but it rhymes with 'Meatza Cut'). For reasons unknown to us at that time (and still to this day actually...) the were OUT of breadsticks. The best/only reason to go to this pizza joint (unless you include wedding receptions or 7 year-old birthday parties) is for their famed pizza sticks (and I'm not talking about their 'dessert sticks'...).
As enraged and grieved as we were at such a travesty, my friend 'Alex' and myself decided to stay and order a mediocre pizza (to be enjoyed with our glamorous glasses of water). Sitting in that booth that night, we discussed the options we had and why they denied us sticks...here are some ideas:
1. We ordered water
So as of a couple years ago, I have gotten into the habit of ordering water with just-about every meal. It's not a bad policy for several reasons, but apparently 'Meatza Cut' didn't think so. I personally think that one of the reasons 'said pizza establishment' denied us bread sticks was because we wanted H2O...the drink that pizza restaurants despise (how could I have forgotten such a cardinal rule of pizza stick etiquette)?
2. Didn't get take-out
Fairly certain that while we sat fuming in our booth, a man came in to grab some sticks-to-go. Another vital approach to be remembered in the future...when in doubt, order out. (That way you can drink your water at home and not be judged for it)
3. I'm white
Yes, I'm pulling the race card. It almost sounds like a lame joke, "a non-latino white girl and a purteo-rican girl walk into a pizza joint". Obviously, it's cause I'm white. I almost wanted to ask the manager how it felt to crush two girls' dreams in one night...
4. We didn't even complain...
My friend (could have) come all the way from Puerto Rico to try the fabled 'bread stick' that she had only heard stories about. She has (maybe...possibly) never seen one in-person or even dared to try then in her country, as they are outlawed for being so amazing (and tied to 3 rebellions in her country's history). Ok...so it's a bit of a stretch, but who really knows these days? Whatever happened to customer service?
5. The pizza stick 'heater-uppers' had gone home for the night
This theory of ours was that the sticks are really frozen dough that they have to place in the oven (at roughly 350 degrees for 15 minutes) in order to achieve that 'freshly baked' look the public craves so desperately. Because the complicated process involved in their creation (ie. using an oven...I know, used to scare me...and then I turned 12), not ever pizza worker is trained in this 'art'. So...after the two high school kids (whose one job is to work the stick-oven) left for the day, they were hopelessly stick-less for the remainder of the night.
6. Ok, so we showed up a bit late...
I wouldn't call this our fault 'per-say', but we did show up 30 minutes before they close. But still, they didn't have to be so cranky about it by denying us the one thing we wanted from their casa de pizza...
While this is not a horribly big issue/problem/difficulty...it was slightly sad at the time. Picture it. Two morose college girls slumped in their booth, no desire to talk...melancholy. Hopeless. Occasionally staring up at the man who has come in and gotten the last of the pizza sticks...their mission is a failure. They will be the bane of college life...no one will ever speak of them again (except to whisper across classrooms about the misfortune that befell them). Names forgotten in history, they will fade away into hollow shells...mere memories of the two laughing girls they once were.
So now that you're thoroughly depressed/saddened, think about the worst thing that has happened to you lately. Come-on, everyone has at least one minor disappointment that has occurred within the last week or so. Well, in retrospect (despite how little it appears beside this horrible and unfortunate catastrophe) in the long-run, it probably won't matter. Life is short, so instead of making mountains out of pizza sticks (see what I did there...), living for Jesus and serving others is definitely a better policy to live by. 'Cause I'm quite certain that it's not overrated (even though this story was intentionally blown out of proportion...hope you picked up on that).
