War And Pizza

I’m calling a pizza place to make an order.

Me: “So, please tell the driver that it’s the red door apartment, on the third level. There’s no elevator, and it’s around the back of the building, behind the green gate, not the numbered one.”

Pizza Guy: “Oh, wow, that’s specific. Now I know why you called in the order instead of doing it online.”

Me: “I tried to order online, but the special instructions field on the order form is limited to fifty characters.”

Pizza Guy: “Yeah, they put in that limit because one time a guy was so p***ed for having to wait during a rush that he put in another order for a single garlic dip and copy-pasted the entirety of War & Peace into the special instructions field. The printout just… kept coming.”

Me: “Um… wow.”

Pizza Guy: “Just… so much paper.”

We’re on the phone, but I can just HEAR his thousand-yard stare.

Pizza Guy: “Just… never ending.”

Me: “Well… thanks! I’ll look forward to my pizza!”

Pizza Guy: “I can still hear it printing.” *Click.*