![]() For starters, the pizzas taste like crap. So my primary reason for hating Domino's is highly personal, but I also have some larger, more general complaints. I swore that I would never eat another Domino's pizza, that I would pluck out my own eyes before watching another Domino's commercial, that I would never again find myself so destitute that I could have my heart broken by a motherfucking delivery pizza. In a rage, I walked the thing down to the dumpsters, threw it in the trash, and vowed bloody vengeance on the Domino's Pizza company. The thing was just inedibly bad: an ugly, small, misshapen, disgusting lump of burnt pizza dough dispassionately sprinkled with a few grains of bitter cinnamon sugar and served with a pathetically tiny cup of cold cake frosting that looked nothing like the gooey, luscious stuff being poured out in the commercials. Just ordered it, pulled out a credit card so hot it had to be picked up with tongs, and waited for my delicious disk of dough and cinnamon and frosting to arrive. Didn't go through the couch looking for change. I wanted one of those things the way Ralphie wanted his Red Ryder BB gun, and one day - in a fit of madness that only those who've been in a position where they can't afford a delivery pizza can ever understand - I picked up the phone and just ordered one. One week, I got all hot and bothered about a series of Domino's commercials advertising some kind of dessert pizza with cinnamon and frosting and god only knows what else. We were poor enough that ordering a pizza represented a kind of wild and fiscally unsound celebration - a twenty-dollar bachanal that amounted to a significant percentage of our net income for the week. We were know-the-mailman-by-his-first-name poor, because I was unemployed at the time, collecting government mercy funds from Uncle Sugar, and I knew to the minute just what time our mail carrier was supposed to show up with my unemployment check. Dodging creditors and Hungry-every-Friday poor. See, back when we were living in Albuquerque, we were poor. I hate it so much that when one of its commercials comes up on TV, I always turn away and give it the finger, curse at it or, if I'm feeling particularly embittered, start in on the Story of the Dessert Pizza - a kind of founding myth of mine and Laura's relationship. ![]() Seriously loathe it in a way that ought to be reserved for the hating only of living things, not branded corporate entities. ![]() I would be curious if the manager at that particularly Dominos Pizza has had any issues with his staff tampering with customers’ food – if there is a history of that here, I would certainly appreciate a call or an email from them.I hate Domino's Pizza. Now I certainly don’t want to sound paranoid, but the looks I received at this store were definitely judgemental, and I definitely felt suspicious – I will say that this pizza never made it to my car the last I saw was a couple of crows sitting on the edge of the garbage can, where I put it, even after paying. The cook started building my pizza, but took it behind that same counter, where I couldn’t see what was going on. It seemed weirder then when that counter person whispered something to the cook, then they both looked over at me, and the counter person promptly left to go into the bathroom and came back with (apparently) something on in a paper towel which he took back to the cooking area to put down, and then washed his hands in the sink back there instead of the bathroom. Have you ever had that strange feeling that starts when you place an order at a fast food plac the (tall, mid-twenties) counter person gives you a strange looks, catches a glimpse of a religious icon on your necklace, and then has an immediate,apparently judgemental.
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