Pizza Parlour Pigout

Yesterday I went to look at a used guitar in Moncton. I'd prefer to purchase a used guitar because I perceive them to be a better value for 'me money'. Yesterday was a disappointment though. The guitar I looked at was gorgeous. Everything about it was perfect...except the crack/dent on the bottom of the rosewood body. Dang. That's two near perfect guitars I've seen that have been damaged. It's worth noting that in both cases the seller did not admit upfront to there being any damage, even when asked (the rascally buaireadairs).

The lesson: buyer beware. Words to live by.

After our disappointing guitar adventure, we felt the need to find some food. Wendy had a hankering for pizza, so we scoured Moncton for a pizza joint that didn't look disjointed. We never actually stopped the car until we got to Riverview (Moncton's Dartmouth). We found a pizza joint in Riverview that had large letters on the window proudly advertising 'pizza by the slice'. We weren't looking for a sit down pizza experience, we simply wanted a slice to eat on the road.

We pulled into the parking lot and jumped out of the car, both eager and hungry. I think we were in the parlour of pizza for all of ten seconds. I walked in, walked up to the circular pizza slice incubator, but then I couldn't differentiate between the pizza slices and the boxes that housed them. Seriously, the slices were uniformly thin, overly brown and wholly unappetizing. Yeesh. That may have been the fastest visit I ever paid to any restaurant. Wendy and I spun on a dime like synchronized skaters. All that was missing was skates, fruity outfits and muscles. And no one pelted us with applause or teddy bears as we left.

On the road again. Next stop: Pizza Delightless. Our fates were sealed, but particularly mine, by the Pizza Delightless sign that announced 'all-you-can-eat-buffet-$9.99'. Originally I wanted one slice of pizza that I could eat in my car. What I ended up with was eleven slices of pizza in a sit down restaurant. Yes, I am a moron. Yes, I am a glutton. No, I will never go back to Pizza Delightless again. That's right, Hon.

The waitress asked us 'do you'se want menus?' She called me Hon, or Hun. She even called Wendy 'Hon'. No one calls Wendy 'Hon'. We should have spun on a dime right then and there. We didn't. We ordered the buffet. Buff, eh? Hardly.

Does the date Saturday, December 21 hold any significance for you? For me, it the day when my colon, hopefully, will summon the energy to expel my eleven (yes, 11) slices of pizza. Until then I'll just live with the massive head-to-toe yeast infection that I know must be eating away at both my gastro-intestinal integrity and my sanity.

Scottish sensibilities direct me to be thrifty. So here's a question/problem: I wanted to spend $3 for a slice of pizza, instead I spent $9.99, does this make me unScottish?

On the surface, the answer is a resounding 'Yes!', but let's look at the math in more detail. I could have paid $3 for one miserable slice, instead I paid 90.8 cents per mediocre slice but I had to eat 11 slices to get the price down to something so 'thrifty' ($9.99/11).

Let's let my readers judge me. Am I Scottish for loading up on 11 slices and getting my per slice costs down? Or am I an idiot for paying $9.99 and eating like a shameless Shetland Phony? Seriously, what do you'se think?