Quite honestly, born and raised in Chicago - how could I not? Well, outside of Chicago, nobody does a Chicago stype pizza without screwing it up - so I've lowered my standards to tolerate New York Style pizza, which is screwed up no matter where you go. But it's consistently screwed up, which I can handle because I know ahead of time not to have high standards. It's friggin' cheese on cardboard.
I *know* everyone has a bad experience with a pizza shop. Perhaps it was as minor as skimping on the 'extra' cheese that you paid for. That's a great scam. Or it was late. Or the server sneezed on it as she was setting it on your table. (That happened once, and then feigned surprise at our reaction). Or maybe your order is wrong. Or half of it is stuck to the top of the pizza box. Maybe you got halfway through your pizza, and noticed someone's shoe print on the bottom of the box as you pulled slices out. Or it was cold.
Well, I know MOST pizza places are honest, and most aim to please. And most pizza drivers have a pretty craptastic job. So I always try to cut them some slack, and go a little heavy on the tip. That's a dangerous job, and so I can't rip on them. Keep one thing in mind: Your pizza guy is alone in his car with your pizza for at least 20 minutes. So remember that and dish out a deep-pan level of respect and gratuity, or he may dish out a deep... well, let's not go there.
Well, you probably already know that, by the sheer fact that you're reading the world famous WorldofAsshats blog, that this isn't about honest or friendly pizza places. This thread is about Lucky's Pizza, which is the absolute OPPOSITE of honest and friendly pizza joints.
While the service we normally receive isn't always up to par.....
While the guys at Lucky's Pizza may be average asshats on most levels, I think we have one pretty qualified candidate out of that group of poop-flingers for all-time asshat fuckuperry.
Let me explain. Despite practice and deceit, Asshats will eventually show their true colors. Usually in private, and when they least think someone is watching. And so I tell you about them, but usually in my own words, because that's the only side of the story I can offer. Not this time. This time, I'm going to let you hear Lucky's Pizza in action FOR YOURSELF!
So here goes. I call Lucky's Pizza in Peoria, Arizona. I ordered 6 pizzas from Lucky's Pizza. I paid for them, picked them up, and was in the middle of eating them when somebody from the store called my cell phone demanding to know when I was going to pick up my pizzas.
Wait.... WHAT?!
I was EATING his pizzas when he called. Literally, NOM NOM NOM eating.
Like this:
So I told him that I paid for the pizzas. He calls me a liar! So I tell him I have a receipt proving that I had already paid for the pizzas. He told me to come show him, which of course, I wasn't going to do. I was miles away in the middle of a meal. I was a little busy at the moment (you know, EATING HIS PIZZA) and I didn't feel like arguing about not picking up pizzas when I was eating pizza, so I told him to figure out his problem, and hung up on him.
He called several times on my cell phone, leaving text messages saying 'please call', and I'm thinking to myself, "what does this asshat WANT"? And here's where it gets good:
He left a nice long obscene message on my cell phone voicemail!
So do you want to hear it? Of course you do.
And to help you understand the uneducated, get-high-in-the-parking-lot-with-the-dishwasher-on-a-nightly-basis asshat who should really be grabbed by the back of the neck, and have his head slammed against the cash register until one or the other splits open, I've provided the captions, and proof of my purchase.
Got your popcorn ready? Good. Scroll down and click on the play button. on the Blogger bar.
I called back a day later, after hearing the message, and tried to work it out. At first I thought it was funny. Unprofessional, and retarded, and absurd... but really, unbelievable and funny. I just wanted the name of the manager so I could tell him what was said to me and get down to the bottom of what actually happened - and quite honestly, AN APOLOGY. I got the manager, and said his name was John, but he was too busy to hear my complaint, and if I didn't like it, I could just shut the ---- up and never come back. Well, THAT's a stunning shocker, right?
I started arguing with him, and he passed me to another employee who then told me his name was John Belushi.
"Oh, like the drunk fat guy from Animal House?", I asked.
"No, I'm his brother you f---ing moron", he replies.
"Yeah? So your mother was so stupid, she named you both John?", I inquired with a grin.
And in a stunning turn of events, it just went downhill from there.
So to hell with Lucky's Pizza. Apparently the manager, the owner and the employees are content on treating people like crap. And being from Chicago, I take great offense at any blasphemy hurled towards the late great Belushi. I'd rather eat my pizza in the comfort of my own car than spend another second in the presence of those acne-spackled doomed souls inside.
Lucky's Pizza on Lake Pleasant Road in Peoria, and all the jackholes working there are taking up too big of a slice in the World of Asshats.
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