- 13 things your pizza delivery guy won’t tell you. Funny. Best one: “I’d prefer that you have a shirt on (and definitely some pants).”
- 8 things someone learned from delivering pizza in high school. Funnier. Best one: “stoners are more generous than the wealthy.”
- 17 more things your pizza guy won’t tell you. None of these are very funny.
- 4-year-old held by pizza delivery guy through gate as quasi-ransom for payment. It was an hour late, expect the folks who ordered the pizza to be cranky. Don’t grab their kids though, that’s creepy/illegal.
- Prank pulled on noob pizza delivery kid. He thinks he’s getting wrapped up in some crazy mafia deal. The video’s like 5 minutes long, but worth it (if you have lots of time to devote to pizza, like your dear author).
- Some pizza delivery person blogs here and here.
Doug and Becca tearing up Homeslice
This past weekend, my good friends Doug and Becca came in town for a Jessie and Ryan’s wedding. I’m really, really close to them, both individually and as a couple. I actually officiated at their wedding, thanks to their invitation and the powers vested in me by the Universal Life Church (dot com! That got a lot of laughs at the ceremony, even though it’s actually dot net). They brought fudge as a thank you for letting them crash on the couch, which was delicious. Doug also brought me some Japanese shredded taro fish snacks, which was less delicious.
The first day they were here, we made a plan to go to Homeslice that night. During the day, we walked over to Peter Pan’s magical BYOB mini golf course at Lamar and Barton Springs. One side of their marquee said “Happy Birthday Connor!”, while the other more dourly said “We Tow”. Ha!
We had a blast. You’d be amazed what good friends, mini golf, sunshine and Lone Star tallboys can do for one’s spirits.
On the way there, Becca expressed her excitement at going to Homeslice. She’s an Italian food fanatic, and a devoted reader of this here blog. She spent the summer in Cambodia doing a human rights law internship, and single-handedly made Cambodia the country with the fifth highest readership of my blog (above Saudi Arabia, after Brazil). I told her that I feel like going to Homeslice as become an extension of my life, it’s such a part of me. It’s a way for those close to me to share…I searched for words as my face twisted up in thought, and Becca, ever the wordsmith, said “the body of Seth”. Well put. She said “I already know what’s going to be on the blog”, and she’s right.
When we walked in, Nano was at the host booth, and I introduced him to Doug because I knew they both came from Philly. It turns out they knew each other growing up and ran in the same circles. This brings the number of my friends who know Nano independently of me to three, all of whom live in different time zones. Crazy!
The storied Homeslice did not disappoint. Granted, we’d already put away copious amounts of alcohol, which never hurts one’s enjoyment of Homeslice. We sat down, and I managed to get one of those Arnold Palmers I talked about in the last post for us to share. It was really good, but probably better enjoyed on a hot day.
We got a salad, a pitcher of Fireman’s #4 and a bigass pizza. Becca wanted half the pizza to be “caprese”. I told her that we could get slices in the middle of the night later that weekend, and the Margherita is essentially the same thing. She agreed, and loved the pizza we ordered (garlic, fresh basil, roasted red peppers, fresh mozzarella, fried eggplant and green olives). You know when Becca’s enjoying Italian food, she’s doesn’t care to hide such intense emotions.
Later in the weekend, we decided to go back to Homeslice for slices at 2am. When we ordered, the guy at the window said “Hey man, I’ll hook you up this time, but the owner said your deal doesn’t cover slices. Sorry about that…”
I was stunned. No more slices! They’ve been a lifesaver on late nights, random afternoons, and many many other times. I’ll have to clarify the next time I’m in there, but I’m sure he’s not making it up. Maybe I am having a detrimental effect on the bottom line.
It was a sad moment. Might be the end of free slices at Homeslice. The news really hurt Erin, so much so that her enjoyment of the night promptly ended and she felt sick to her stomach for the remainder of that night and well into the next day. Sad news indeed, and the only blemish on an otherwise awesome weekend.
Who says Ayurveda and pizza are incompatible?
While waiting for our table a few days ago, I played ping pong against a master. But because he was used to a regulation table that is bigger and gives the ball more bounce, he couldn’t adapt. It was fun. The plywood table is warping and losing its bounce quickly, increasing my home-court advantage.
In food news, Mark finally made it happen. After lots of cajoling me to order chopped anchovies instead of normal anchovies (to greater distribute the deliciousness), I swallowed my guilt and had the cooks chop away. It was awesome. The anchovies were chopped and spread more evenly around my half of the pizza, smoothing out the peaks and troughs of anchovy-eating. Plus, they became really small and hard to see, so their intensity frequently surprised me. Mark was totally right.
Towards the end of our meal, I saw one of the waitresses carrying a tray of odd looking drinks. As Erin and I walked out, the hostess was drinking one, and said the next time we came in, we should try to sit in Amy’s section, because she makes badass Arnold Palmers. Instead of normal ice, she uses lemon ice (the dessert). I told her that as a hostess, she has more input on where I sit than I do. She laughed and said she’s seat me in Amy’s section next time I come to Homeslice. Yet more deliciousness!
Lastly, friends often ask how Erin’s Ayurvedic medicine research gels with her copious pizza consumption. Well, as the photo shows, Ayurveda and pizza go quite well together. Erin hasn’t been complaining about delicious free pizza one block away from our apartment too loudly.
Candle under pizza plate = perpetually warm pizza!
I’ve been going to Homeslice for some time now, so you’d think I would’ve discovered all the pizza secrets there are to know. Nope! I learned a new one a few nights ago.
Place the red candle beneath the pizza holder when the pizza comes to your table. It’s metal, so it won’t burn, but it does heat up nicely, keeping your second, third and fourth slices hot by the time you get around to them! As Slicey would say, heck yeah!
When I discovered this, I excitedly told Mark, who’s been our waiter the last few times. He seemed surprised I hadn’t already figured it out.
Mark is kinda like the little devil on my shoulder, balancing out the non-existent angel. He always encourages me to get interesting variations on toppings that I know will be more work for the kitchen staff. Chopped anchovies instead of regular anchovies. Pears. Gorgonzola. That kinda thing. It all sounds great, but I feel guilty screwing up the cook’s workflow at busy times.
This time, Mark totally came through in a legit way. I ordered anchovies, as I always do unless more than half the table objects. Usually I get about two anchovies per slice. Each one is long, but I end up getting three bites in a row with anchovies and then none for the next eight or nine bites. This time though, my half had a TON of anchovies. I counted seven on one slice alone!
Folks often ask me if I’m making Homeslice go broke by eating so much free pizza. I usually reply that I don’t know, but when a place buys flour in the volume that Homeslice must, an extra few pizzas a week can’t affect the bottom line too much. I generally think that’s true, and when I come with friends, I make them buy lots of profit margin-rich beer, so Homey wins there. The one exception is anchovies. At the trusty HEB (or not so trusty as it turns out. “Dairy Drink”? really?), a tin of eight anchovies is like three bucks. I got that on one slice. So if Homeslice goes broke and shutter before my year of the pizza ends, it’s not because I eat too much free pizza, it’s because I like anchovies too much.
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The next morning, I heated up the leftovers for breakfast for Erin and I (yeah, we’re hardcore). I started eating one of the non-anchovy slices before realizing that as it had no anchovies, it was Erin’s and not mine. When she realized that I’d eaten half her slice, she was a little annoyed, and asked why I keep doing this. I don’t try to, it’s a simple mistake. I told her that I was sorry, but didn’t have much sympathy, as overall I’m responsible for her having quite a net gain of free pizza. She smiled, rolled her eyes, and gave me a hug. Checkmate!
Matt, Devon and Erin, post-ACL, pre-pizza
My friends Devon and Matt came to Austin for ACL two weeks ago. We went to Homeslice on Saturday night, right after the amazing Ghostland Observatory set. None of us had seen them before, and we were blown away by their performance.
We were also cold, wet and muddy. It rained all day, and while Devon, Erin and Matt decided to fight the rain with jackets and ponchos, I embraced it by wearing a swimsuit, quick dry shirt, etc. Well, they were right and I was wrong. I became miserably wet, and two days later, came down with the swine flu. Pretty ironic that a Jew who doesn’t eat pork gets the swine flu. For the last two weeks I’ve felt like crap, although I’m doing a lot better now and just have a residual cough.
Anyhoo, my memories of the night are sorta hazy, partially due to the feverish haze that I endured after that weekend, and partially due to the three pitchers of beer that we split that night.
I had told Devon and Matt that the staff all knew me pretty well, so when they beat us there, they used my name to get a table and got a blank stare. Guess I’m not as much of a big kahuna at Homeslice as I thought.
In a small world moment earlier in the weekend, I learned that Devon was friends with Nano Whitman from an exchange thing they did together in Ghana. Devon had just gone back to visit the program and hung out with Nano’s brother, who’s still there. One of her tertiary goals on her trip to Austin was trying to catch up with him, and she was pretty amazed to learn that he manages Homeslice, a visit to which was even higher on her to do list. I think they met briefly towards the end of the weekend, but I’m not sure.
After we were seated, we jabbered with Mark, our waiter, for awhile and brainstormed strategies for the next Hands on an Eggplant Sub contest. After a soggy day, the hot pizza and cold beer were amazing.
We got basil on half because they weren’t sure if they could handle the hardcore basil. Devon and Matt loved the pizza, and there were no leftovers. Hopefully they liked it enough that they’ll come back again. If so, I hope there trip doesn’t portend another visit from their friend Mr. Swine Flu. He’s not so welcome.
This might be old news for some of y’all, but my first Paying Pizza Forward guest and local icon Leslie Cochran has been in the hospital for almost a week. It sounds pretty bad. Have a slice for Leslie, and keep him in your thoughts and prayers. As y’all may remember, his parting words to me when I bought him pizza were “don’t grow old”. I didn’t think he meant it seriously.
UPDATE – Not good at all. “An official with knowledge of the incident said Leslie’s injuries are life threatening condition and if he survives, he may experience “life-altering effects,” including remaining in a vegetative state.”
UPDATE 10/20 – Doing better, in rehab hospital. “‘I don’t know if he will be the same person as he was before. It takes six months to a year before we will know some of that,’ Gonzales said. ‘There is no crystal ball for it. He is going in the right direction.'”
I need to use photoshop on someone’s computer for about an hour sometime in the next couple of days. I’ll let you use my photoshop-less laptop for that hour. I’d be happy to take you out to Homeslice afterwards. Either email me or lemme know in the comments.
And while I’m at it, I’m interested in trading free pizza for all kinds of stuff, including (but not limited to) homebrew beer, nunchucks, lessons in something, tubs of ice cream, briefcases full of money that are handcuffed to your wrist, etc.
Lemme know.
Erin demonstrating Ping Pong technique in one hand, turntable rocking in the other
The Homeslice elves must constantly rack their heads trying to come up with ways for me to love Homeslice even more. I can just see the Homeslice Elf High Council (HEHC) brainstorming: “we’ve given Seth free pizza that happens to be the best in town, thrown in free toppings, helped him get re-engaged, and conveniently located ourselves on the same block where he lives, but what else can we do to keep him coming back? I got it! A ping pong table and an outdoor bar!”
Well, their elven minds read mine. I never realized that Homeslice was lacking an oddly-sized ping pong table and an outdoor bar, but now that they’re there (as of yesterday) I realize how complete Homeslice has become.
I went to Homeslice tonight after being out of town for three weeks, and after being greeted with “Hey! Pizza man!”, Erin and I went to the patio to have a beer and wait on our table. While Erin tried out the outdoor bar, I checked out the ping pong table. It seemed a little narrow, and when I asked the dad of the kids who were occupying the table if it was a 3/4-width table, he said “I think it’s a painted-piece-of-plywood-sized ping pong table.” Sure, enough, he was right.
His name was called, so his family relinquished the table to Erin and I. Even though we each had a beer, we managed to obey both clauses of the “Yo! Keep drinks and derrièrs (sic) off the table” fiat.
The music system outside seemed to have had a few too many of the outside bar’s drinks, as it was skipping a bit, but whatever. Nano and The Waitress Formerly Known As Pregstand were working the kinks out of the bar to make sure it ran smoothly, which it did. Apparently, beer + ping pong + nice warm evening = good. Who knew? I was almost sad to hear that our table was ready. Almost.
The pizza was good, as usual. Our waitress casually mentioned that she didn’t know if the prize for this year’s hands on an eggplant (HOES!) contest would again be free pizza for a year. My heart stopped cold and my skin went clammy. I asked if she had any inside info or if she was just speculating. She said the latter, and I breathed a sigh of relief. When she brought the check (large pizza with seven toppings, two pints of fireman’s #4, a lemonade and tax: $10.19), I told her that if any Homeslice or elven high counselors (I didn’t say that part) happen to ask her what she thinks I would prefer as a prize for this year’s contest, tell them that I’m pretty happy with the current prize. She laughed, but I was sorta serious.
Austin City Limits starts tomorrow, and now that our fridge is stocked with leftover pizza for breakfast, we’re ready to rock our faces off. Hopefully the garlic and anchovies will convince others to give me some space.
Below is the entirety of an email I received today, offering to sell me the domain www.vegetablepizza.com. Why me? Well, my website was found in the Google results! I clicked through to their site, Delicious Names, and was pleasantly surprised to find the “valuable domain name” offered for only $10,000. Mine is hard to find among the hundreds of “premium domain names”, but if you search for “pizza” you’ll find www.vegetablepizza.com listed right below www.acnewebsite.com, also offered at $10k. In order to take advantage of this fabulous deal, I’m calling on you, my dear readers, to send me $1,000 so I can participate in this important opportunity. C’mon, I just want to do a friendly deal with you and this is a genuine offer.
The email (all typos, colors and formatting copied as is):
I am Isabella from the Yolex Group which is a domain investment firm based in the UK. When we look for the keyword “Vegetable Pizza”, your website was found in the Google results and therefore you are contacted.
We are now selling the domain name which we have purchased for establishing a business. But the business plan was abandoned and therefore the premium domain is available for purchase.
The domain for sale is
VegetablePizza.com
Following are some of the benefits of buying this premium domain.
A good domain name like this is a good investment.
There are about 20,000 searches per month for the keywords “Vegetable Pizza” in Google.
There are people who just type in VegetablePizza.com in their search bar and they are called “type in visitors”. You could redirect THAT TYPE in visitors to your business website without needing to pay Google or yahoo for the clicks.
We are in the internet business, and we have an opportunity that only one of you will get. We have VegetablePizza.com
This premium name will only be available like this once and only one of you will become the owner of this valuable domain name.
If you have any interest at all in this premium domain name, we do encourage you to contact us. We just want to do a friendly deal with you and this is a genuine offer, and you can visit our website to see some of the other domains we own.
Yours sincerely,
Isabella.
Panther Pizza
A few weeks ago I was an extra for the TV show “Friday Night Lights”. It’s a drama about high school football in small town Texas.
They said not to bring any clothes with logos, but I figured I’d try to plug Homeslice anyway by wearing my hat. When I was sent to wardrobe they made me take it off, and didn’t like most of the rest of my clothes either, so they gave me some “Dillon High” stuff. I did see Homeslice stickers and stuff on camera gear, so maybe the crew has some good taste.
When Erin and I lived in India, we were extras in the Bollywood flick “Charas”. I ran across a bridge screaming “Mother Help Me” in Hindi and eventually got shot by the Taliban, who were invading the hippie drug commune where I resided. I think. Anyway, they cut me but left Erin in, maybe because she looked a lot better dead splayed on a rock with her chest arching skyward than I did flinging myself into the river. Not that I’m bitter.
So I was no stranger to being an extra. Lots of hanging out, little acting. I brought books, and unlike many of the actors, had no illusions about this being my jumpstart to fame. But whatever, I got paid to read books and do nothing, two of my strong suits.
My last scene was a pool party. I joined 60 other 20-somethings at some random house in a residential neighborhood to hang out and act like a hip, partying high-schooler. It was a weird experience, everyone at this party seemed a lot hotter and less interesting than the folks I remember from high school parties. Like at many high school parties I attended, I found myself hanging out by the food in a futile effort to ward off awkwardness.
They had lots of pizza boxes chaotically spread across the table, from “Panther Pizza”. The mascot for Dillon High, the fictional high school where the show takes place, is the panthers. Hence “Panther Pizza”. It tasted like chain pizza that was sure as hell not from Homeslice, but it was free. Actually, I got paid to eat it. By the time the pool party rolled around, I was getting paid time and a half for overtime. Top that, Homeslice!
