If You Have to Ask, You Can’t Afford It
I’m in a quandary. I want new stores and services
to come into my neighborhood, but I get nervous when they do. I can’t help but
wonder, is this how the gentrification starts? Starbucks, Trader Joe’s, Whole
Foods and pale people in skinny jeans pretty much signal the beginning of the
end in any neighborhood-of-color here in New York City. But Pizza Hut didn’t
seem too threatening. I was actually glad to see it give some competition to Domino's,
Papa John’s, and Little Caesar’s.
When I was finally in the mood for pizza, I made a
special trip to the Hut. It’s not a full-service, dine-in location, just a
corner outpost. That was fine. It fit in with the evening’s Netflix plans. I parked,
went in, perused the menu, and noticed there were no prices.
Sometimes, I have a habit of not seeing things that
are right in front of me. When I was a kid my parents chided this tendency
calling it inattentive and lazy, but I think it’s my brain’s way of dealing
with information overload. It can’t take in everything all at once. So it doesn’t.
Of course there were prices. There had to be. Sure,
it had been a while since I’d eaten at a Pizza Hut. But I didn’t think in the
interim it had become an upscale eatery. I wanted mushrooms and pepperoni, not
lobster and diamonds.
It had been a long day. I figured my brain just
needed a minute. So I took a breath, blinked*, and looked at the menu again; still
no prices. (*I am well aware that blinking is a no-no for Doctor Who fans. But considering the paucity of marble angel
statues in the hood, I took a chance.)
I said to the guy behind the counter, “Um… is it
free?
“What?” he said.
“Is it free? The pizza? There are no prices on the
menu. Is everything here free?” Not an outrageous question really. Perhaps this
was Pizza Hut’s way of giving back to the community. Nothing says love like
carbs, cheese, and processed meat.
Now it was his turn to blink.
He said, “I don’t know how much to charge you. But
if you order on line I can give you a better deal.”
Better than what? I didn’t know since I had nothing
in hand to compare it with. Was he serious?
He was serious.
So it was my turn to blink again. And so I did,
more slowly this time: First the left eye, then the right, then together. Okay,
maybe it was more of a twitch. I considered calling in my order but I had the
surreal image of me standing there at the counter, phone ringing in my ear and
in the shop and the guy in front of me not answering.
I felt foolish for stating the obvious but I said
it anyway: “Why would I order online, when I’m right here in the store and
there is no line?”
And he said, “But it’s easy. Do you have a smart
phone?” Of course, I have a smart phone but technology is supposed to
facilitate not aggravate. And this exchange was facilitating my aggravation.
Clearly I wasn’t blinking enough.
I thought of my Dad who by choice has one of those
basic lifeline phones. It's not smart enough to order pizza. But apparently I
wasn’t smart enough to order it either. I foolishly thought there might be
posted prices for people who walk in off the street and dare to order the
old-fashioned, 3-D, live and direct way. There wasn’t. And so me, and Pizza
Hut’s designated representative just stood there blinking at each other. (I began
wondering what was taking the angels so long. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have one
of them zap me back to the recent past to just before I made the decision to
visit this Twilight Zone outpost?)
When my brain finally grasped the unreal reality of
the situation it suggested that I instead go home and have a salad. Nothing
says true love like fresh salad fixin’s from the market. Sure I could have gone
to one of the other suspiciously numerous local pizza purveyors but the moment
had passed.
A few weeks later I dropped by Pizza Hut again,
mainly to see if Rod Serling was still skulking about. There continued to be no
prices on the paper menu but they now had a menu and prices on the flat screen display
installed on the wall above and behind the counter. That had not been there
before. I swear. I know I miss stuff but it’s hard to overlook a bright, big
ass flat-screen. And if it had been there before, the Pizza Hut Guy would’ve
pointed it out instead of giving me blither-blather about ordering online. But
now, I was no longer in the mood for Pizza. Just walking in gave me a sudden and
inexplicable craving for salad. Where’s a Whole Foods when you need one?
The Urban Erma, the longest running column on StageTimeMagazine.com, was created and written by stand-up comedian Leighann Lord. Listen to the podcast on iTunes and Stitcher Radio. Watch the video edition on YouTube.com. If you enjoy The Urban Erma share it with your friends. (Share it with people who are not your friends and maybe they will be.)
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