The injustice of a tasty new recipe

So, this evening I arrived home after a long day, starving and tired.  I thought, “I don’t want to bother making food.  I’m going to get a pizza.”

Now, when I moved into my new apartment recently, I was fortunate enough to be very close to an absurd number of restaurants, among them a Domino’s Pizza.

(As an aside, I’m aware that a disproportionate number of my posts seem to be about fast food.  I don’t know what to tell you, except that I obviously spend a lot of time thinking about food.)

A few months ago, Domino’s began an aggressive television advertisement campaign, the main theme of which was basically, “You told us that our food tasted terrible, and we listened.”  So, apparently the entire menu was revamped to feature improved, not-terrible recipes.  I found this exciting, because frankly I always though Domino’s tasted fine (not amazing, mind, but certainly good enough), and as such the prospect of it tasting better was appealing.  I’ve had a mental note ever since then to try Domino’s again when I had the chance.

(That’s right: it took me three years to correctly learn my old street address, but an idle  mental post-it note to eat pizza can last months without being forgotten)

So, after I arrived home and changed into clothes that aren’t designed to make me look like a credible professional, I headed right back out again to go to the Domino’s around the corner.  This was exciting for me.  I was excited.

But, what did I see when I arrived?  No, not the smoldering, burnt-out husk of a former Domino’s, which is probably where you thought this was going,

(although, some time I really need to write a post about the time we drove 45 minutes out of our way at the instruction of a GPS whose restaurant data contained the locations of the nearest Del Taco in our area.  That was the day I realised that if a restaurant closes, your GPS has no way of knowing.)

but instead I saw the same white storefront, neon sign, and photos of pizzas in the window that I expected.  Everything was right, with one important exception. The neon sign read, in stark simplicity,

Campus Pizza

It was like an episode of The Twilight Zone, where everything is exactly as it should be for the protagonist, except the one thing that matters is wrong.

Domino’s Pizza just rolled out delicious new recipes.  “Campus Pizza” couldn’t possibly offer anything near what I wanted.  “Campus Pizza” didn’t just spend millions advertising how they used to suck but now they don’t.  “Campus Pizza” probably never even sucked in the first place!

I don’t know what happened to my Domino’s Pizza.  Maybe they left and a new business jumped at the chance to run out of a storefront that was already set up to sell pizza.  Perhaps Domino’s is a franchise, and the owner just decided to go it alone without corporate support.  Perhaps I actually did enter a parallel dimension, in which everything is exactly the same except for the pizza place around the corner from my apartment.

But, it really didn’t matter.  All that mattered was that Domino’s was gone.

Heartbroken, I instead ate at McDonald’s, where I splurged and ordered bacon, because bacon makes everything better.

Sometimes life just isn’t fair.

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