I worked a million billion times in the past few days and decided that I was going to sit my ass down on the couch and order some snacks. We have a handy little delivery service in my town that brings you food from restaurants that otherwise don't deliver. The orderform thingers are online and then the place calls you up and confirms with you.
Today I placed my order and 10 minutes later they call back and tell me that that particular place has closed their kitchen for the night. I'm not entirely sure why they can't list that ANYWHERE on their site, but fine. Lame, but I can move on. Luckily I prevented it from happening again by double checking elsewhere to see my second choice's hours.
I look over some other menus of places that can deliver and I settle on a certain pizza place that has the widest variety of pastas. The following conversation ensued, in which I am me and Smarty McSmarterson plays himself:
Me: Hi! I was just wondering if I could sort of make up my own pasta?
SMS: Oh sure, no problem!
Me: Okay, I'd like ziti with olive oil and garlic sauce.
SMS: ...olive oil and garlic sauce? You mean creamy pesto sauce?
Me: Uh, no. The olive oil and garlic sauce. I'm reading it off your menu.
SMS: *confused muttering*
Me: Yeah, it's the sauce listed that comes with the Shrimp Pasta...?
SMS: OH! The scampi sauce?
Me: Um...I guess so? On the menu it just says olive oil and garlic.
SMS: Okay. The scampi sauce.
Me: ...okay. Can I get spinach, mushrooms, and peppers in that?
SMS: Do you want melted mozzarella cheese on that?
Me: No, I don't want it baked. Just tossed.
SMS: Well, do you want marinara?
SMS: Oh, just the things you said?
OH THANK GOD WE GOT THAT OUT OF THE WAY. But it just can't be simple from here on out.
SMS: You get a salad with that.
Me: Oh great! Is it possible to get a caesar salad?
Me: If there's a little extra charge that's fine.
SMS: Well do you want the small one or the big one?
Me: Oh, um, for the caesar?
SMS: Well the big one is $7. Did you want chicken?
Me: No, no chicken.
SMS: Well did you want the big one or the small one? Wait! You get a salad with the pasta.
Me: Right. Could I get the caesar salad as the one that comes with it?
SMS: Oh. Hold on. *random muttering in the background* So you wanted the small caes--wait, hold on. *other random muttering* OK. Did you want caesar dressing?
He then proceeded to tell me my order total without asking if I wanted anything else...which I did. I was quoted 45 minutes. I got my food in only a hair over that time, which was fine.
I sat down and opened up all my food and discovered...shrimp. A bunch. Throughout my pasta. :( I was super bummed. Hadn't we just had a conversation about how I wanted just what I said I wanted? I can guarantee I did not order any shrimp because I am fucking allergic to it. Sweeeet! I picked it all out and crossed my fingers that even though some of the shrimp were fairly buried in the pasta I'd be able to eat it without much problem. I carefully tried a couple noodles, but no luck. I could feel my tongue tingling almost immediately. Boo.
I tried calling them, but no one answered. I waited a few minutes and tried again. Nothing. Okay, now I'm mad. I just spent money on a meal I can't eat and now the place isn't answering their phone. Aggravated, I got in my car and drove there, calling every few minutes without an answer.
I will say that when I got there the guy was basically apologetic and made me a fresh one immediately. That was good. However, he also said, "I always tell them to read the orders back to people!!" Because I am clever, I had read the ticket stapled to the bag. Surprisingly enough, Smarty McSmartenpants had gotten the order right. There was nothing about shrimp on the ticket. Artistic liberties? I'll pass.
I wish that I'd just gone there in the first place and not wasted an hour waiting for incorrect food that I was going to have to bring back myself anyway. And I wish that my caesar salad was dressed. And that the pasta wasn't so bland. F minus minus.