Ok, I’m all for stone baked, authentic, back east, New York Style pizza and all that. I know I’m kinda old and I know that I’m kinda picky with what I choose to use my calories for. I know things aren’t the same as they were when I was a young whipper-snapper.
So, maybe it’s just a personal problem, but let me just ask you…
Is this pizza burned? I think it’s burned. I think it’s REALLY burned. So burned, in fact, that I scurried right back to the pizza joint and said, politely, “Hey, I think my pizza is burned. Like, REALLY burned.”
Why did I say, I THINK my pizza’s burned?! I’ve been alive a long time and I think know burned when I see it. There, I said it again. I THINK. I need to be more decisive…more assertive…more…more…something. Sheesh.
The girl at the window said, “Oh, sorry. We can make you another one. We thought it was fine.”
Fine? FINE?!! FIIIIIIIINE? What on earth?!! How is this fine?! What are people eating these days that they are calling food? Fine. Burned. Pizza?!
My soul is shuttering.
My new pizza was waay better…
and only slightly burned.