The shaker of red pepper flakes dumped all over one of my black olive pizza slices today. Dammit…
Why didn’t I say anything at the time? Why didn’t shout out a grinding superlative, and wring my hands, like a New Yorker/well-bred lady would?
I sighed, and thought: “Maybe I could deal with this. No problem; no big whoop. It’s still good pizza, after all…it only dumped on one of the pieces…is that’s oregano?” (I added it, with relish, as if the powers of oregano would save the day), “And…why is there no Parmesan cheese?”
The two olive slices cost $3 each, with a bottle of water (Total cost: $7.75)
After berating myself for not speaking up, I went to the break room to clean up the mess. However, once when red pepper flakes adhere to the cheese-laden surfaces, it’s impossible to wipe them off. Also, my stomach is going through a mini-war right now. So much for the “trying new spices” theory.
Nevertheless, the untouched slice was still delicious.