Distant Travel

So I was sitting here accomplishing not a friggin’ thing, feeling like crap, and the thought of cooking was too much to bear. So I got online and ordered a pizza from Domino’s – not my first choice, but it’s the only place that delivers here. I wait for the online order thingy to tell me when my pizza is ready and will be delivered. Except when it’s done, it says, “Ready for Pick Up.” Well, shit. I didn’t want to leave the house – that was the whole point of ordering there. But I dredge up out of the chair and drag Kara out the door, and we go off to get the pizza.

The local store is only about five blocks away, and if our street were slanted just a bit more toward the west, you’d be able to see the store from our yard. We get in the car, cuz five blocks is way too far to walk even if it wasn’t 100 degrees outside and getting dark (no streetlights, freeway crosses route, all that). We drive over there and I send Kara in for the pizza. She comes back out and says they don’t have our order. I send her back in and have her make them call the other store, which is seven miles away, to see if they have it. They don’t.

I get out of the car myself, grumbling, and go inside the store. I tell them that I ordered online as I always do, and since I only ever order from that store and the site allegedly saves my preferences, it didn’t occur to me that it would send the order somewhere else. Plus it has my address – how hard can it be to hit the nearest store? I tell the manager, Danielle, that the pizza progress thingy had informed me that “Miguel” prepared my pizza. She says, “That’s the Alexander store.” She calls them as I protest that I don’t even have the Alexander store selected on the site as one of my stores. They keep her on hold about 4 minutes as I grow increasingly frustrated. But the pizza is there, and now I have to drive to get it. Goody.

I make sure Danielle knows how inconvenient this is, without raising my voice or getting irate, and she gives me the GM’s phone number as he oversees both stores. She also writes down her name and Miguel’s. I get in the car and set the tripometer, because I want to know just how far out of my way I will be going. As Kara and I are traveling to the Alexander store on the freeway, I casually glance over to the side of the road and see a business. It’s called “Distant Travel.” I bitch at Meridjet for his humor (synchronicity is a favorite way for him to express his smart aleck attitude). Kara cracks up.

We arrive, eventually, at the Alexander store and the trip reads 11.6 miles. That’s a lot farther than five blocks, and one hell of a sight longer away from home than not leaving at all would’ve been. I walk into the store, wait for the lone man (who has to be Miguel) to get off the phone, and then tell him, “I just came 11.6 miles out of my way to get my pizza.” He’s unmoved, asks the name, tells me the price. I proceed in attempting to explain to him what I’ve been through, and he proceeds to be underwhelmed, never losing his “bored now” manner of speaking. It should be in a comedy movie, I swear. I ask for two garlic sauces and a 20 oz Mr. Pibb. I pay way too much money.

When I get back out to the car, we decide to just eat in the parking lot because I’m starving and my blood sugar is wonky – which is why I feel like shit. As we’re eating, I’m feeling the increasing need to use the restroom, of the sort that no one ever wants to do in a public facility. So I’m squeezing together and trying to ignore it. Kara makes the comment that I should leave him a present at his door after closing time. I said, “Yeah, here’s your pizza back.” We have a sick humor, sometimes.

I’m now debating, after a day in which I didn’t come close to completing the day’s to-do list, whether to paint or lie down and read. I think lying down is winning. I still feel wonky. Night night.

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