Letters: Day Twelve

Yes.  That's Hot Dogs and Mustard.

Dear Pizza Hut,

Speaking of fail . . .

You know you're my favorite. I grew up with you. And while I may stray, I always come back. But today, I was disappointed.

A bunch of us at work decided to pitch in for pizza. A couple of people ordered wings. I was so excited about the warm cheesesticks. We placed the order at eleven.

At one, the food finally showed up. Yes. It took you two hours to get our food to us.

Which might have been forgivable. But one of the pizzas was wrong. Instead of getting one order of hot wings and one of barbecue, we ended up with two barbecue. And my cheesesticks, oh the horror, they were cold.

As far as pizza delivery service goes, this is pretty much epic failure. Nothing was right.

So I think we'll take a little time apart. We need our space. A little time to cool down and think things over. You let me know when you're ready to apologize.

Aunt Bee

No comments: