Unfiltered Story #57037

(I’ve been going to a particular pizza place for years now. They’re locally famous for some of their specialty pies, but because I’m usually broke and this is the one “semi-fast-food” meal I allow myself, I just get some regular slices with maybe one topping soemtimes. On this trip I happen to have a little extra and a big appetite, so I order two of their gigantic Sicilian slices, but notice something right before it’s put in for heating.)

Me: Oh, wait a second, can I see those..?

Worker: Yeah, let me guess, it’s too dark?

Me: Yeah, that crust is *really* dark.

Worker: I’m sorry, nobody’s sure why this one got so much darker than usual, and at this hour we might not make another one for just the slices; would you still like it?

Me: Yeah, just could you only heat them up a little bit so they don’t completely burn?

Worker: Of course!

(He does so, and though lukewarm, the first slice is still good. I bite into the second slice… and spot a medium-length, curly, red hair sticking out of it from under the cheese. Note that I have long, straight, brown hair. I head back up.)

Me: Uh, my man… I normally hate to complain, but there’s a hair IN the pizza.

Worker: What!? *pulls it out, looks at it* How… How did that happen!?

Me: Hey, accidents happen and–

Worker: Yeah, but no one here has hair like this! I’m so sorry, I, I don’t know how—

Me: Like I said, accidents happen. I’m just still hungry, could I get a [different, slightly more expensive specialty slice] instead of the Sicilian and I’ll pay the difference?

Worker: Of course, don’t worry about it, I won’t charge you for it.

Me: Oh, okay, thanks!

(He heats up the other piece, and it’s completely perfect, and I’ve got a huge smile on my face again. The busy rush that had been going on finally dies down, and I go up to settle up.)

Worker: I’m sorry again about all of that.

Me: Hey, look, no, stop. Every single time I’ve ever come in here, it’s been perfect. Beyond perfect, half the time I ask for like, mushrooms, and then you take and throw extra cheese and garlic sauce on it. I can deal with one off night. Here.

(I go to hand him my card, but he just waves me off.)

Worker: No, don’t worry about it.

Me: … I at the other pieces just fine and I had the soda, I wanna pay!

Worker: Really, it’s the least I can do.

Other worker: Yeah, you’re here all the time, don’t worry about it!

Me: Oh yeah!? *pulls the two dollar bills I have in my wallet out, shoves them defiantly into the tip jar* Well worry about THAT! Have a good night guys, see you soon!

(I actually felt bad about not paying them considering I *did* eat the food, but I’ll just factor the cost into extra-large tips the next few visits!)