I don’t remember much from seventh grade; I had a crush on a girl who could type way faster than me, I remember math quickly becoming my bitter rival, and my first time in art class, the teacher asked us what our favorite food(okay maybe I do remember a lot). As an introvert, I sat nervously rehearsing in my mind what I was going to say, and when it finally came time to answer, I panicked and blurted out the answer, “Mashed potatoes.” I still remember a spattering of chuckles coming from other class members as I threw pizza under the bus. What had I done? In a weak moment, in a fit of 7th grade nervousness, I had forgotten about my beloved pizza. No matter the cost, not matter the pressure put on me when asked that question again, would my answer to my favorite food ever be mashed potatoes.
For a long time, I was a loyal person. I always bought Nike’s, always followed the San Antonio Spurs, always worked for companies for a long time, always stayed in the same family. But a little while ago I realized, why should I be loyal? Nike has never given me an endorsement deal, sent me on an all expense paid trip to NikeTown in Beaverton, or or sent me a free pair of shoes? Why should I be loyal to them? The Spurs are pretty easy to follow because they’ve only had one losing season in 25 years. But in all those years of following them, have they even once given me season tickets, or even a free T-shirt? Or for that matter, even made a shirt that fit me? And what has my family ever done for me beside love me unconditionally?
You all may say you love pizza more than I do and that you are way more loyal to it than I am. I suppose in college you have ordered pizza more than once a week and stored the boxes in your dorm room. And I suppose you ordered pizza in some form, every Friday since then? And not only that, have ordered pizza on days besides Fridays? And I suppose you’ve eaten stuffed crust pizza from Pizza Hut backwards because one time 25 years ago, you saw a commercial with your favorite athlete telling you that is the proper way to do it? And does your company come to you whenever pizza is needed to be ordered and ask you to do it? Has a co-worker who was dumb as rocks asked you where online you would order pizza from Pizzahut.com? And better yet, have you convinced people in the office to start saying the day of the week after Thursday isn’t Friday, but Pizza?
Spoiler warning. I have done all those things. Drivers know me personally and have called ME when they didn’t get my order on Friday.
So yesterday, when I was alerted by the media, (or maybe it was just a co-worker), that it was National Pizza Day, and I was outraged. Outraged that Pizza Hut didn’t call me and tell me. I was bitterly frustrated that not one Pizza joint had a courtesy pizza waiting for me at the front desk at work, or one waiting for me at home. I get that Nike didn’t give me free stuff, because I only bought a pair of shoes from them once a year or less. And the Spurs, I’ve purchased a lot of merchandise from them, but have only been to a handful of their games, because I live many miles from Texas. But Pizza should know better. Since seventh grade, they have been my favorite. Maybe they felt betrayed by the mashed potato incident and have sworn vengeance ever since. Maybe they still remember the time I ate a sub sandwich on a Friday that one time in ’86. Or maybe pizza is bitter because I forgot to include them in one of my blogs.
Either way, I expect more from Pizza. If I next year on this very day, #Pizza isn’t celebrating by posting my face on their Instagram thanking me for all their loyalty, and showering me in pepperoni’s the entire month of October, I’m going to stop supporting pizza forever. Do you hear me, Pizza! For a month! Do you understand what I’m saying Pizza! An entire week! I mean it Pizza! I will go a whole day without ordering you! Do not mess with my loyalty EVER. AGAIN.
Bitter Pizza Day Ben