My gift to Domino's Pizza

At Dean's dogged insistence, I ate some of his roast beef last night, and his specialty green beans, left over from the Christmas dinner. I didn't eat with him and my other flatmate, Robert, but I cooked with them.



& links

Dec. 29, 2022

"Thank you, Dean," I said, taking a couple of slices of the beef, frightfully rare and red.

"I always cook the meat rare," he said. "If you don't like it rare, just slap it on a skillet and cook it a little more." 

"Thank you, Dean," I said, and slapped it on a skillet. 

White it sizzled, he talked about his long career as a chef in fancy kitchens, and all the compliments his cooking always gets. That's what he talks about, whenever we talk.

"Thank you," I said again, when after a few minutes more talking, he let me slip into my room with the by-then cold beef and beans.

The beef was… beef, no different from roast beef you'd eat anywhere. The beans were bland, and I didn't finish them.

Cooking is the biggest thing in Dean's life. It's his passion, so it isn't just weird, it's sad, that the food he's prepared and shared with the flatmates, twice now, has been nothing special. 

Domino's makes crappy pizza, but it's cheap. I haven't eaten any pizza this year, and they mailed a flyer promising "Any pizza, for $6.99 when you order two." 

This was weeks ago, before I started eating healthy, and I could easily eat two pizzas and call it dinner, so I was ready to buy. At their website, though, the order errored out when I tried applying the coupon code. I tried it a second time, and again got the error message, something like, "Your order cannot be processed; please call your local store and order by phone."

I hate the phone but wanted some $6.99 pizza, so I called my local Domino's, and ordered two pizzas. It's been a while, so I don't remember the bogus specifics of why, but the total was twenty-nine dollars and change, not including the delivery fee — more than twice the $14 plus tax promised in the ad.

My response was to hang up, and eat a TV dinner for dinner that night, but I also filled out a complaint form on the Domino's website. I was polite, thinking maybe my complaint might score a free pizza as an apology, or even the promised $6.99 pizza.

All this was so long ago, that when an email from Domino's popped into my box this morning, I assumed it was spam and almost deleted it.

It's a form letter, of course. "We are committed to your satisfaction," it says, "and consider your feedback to be a gift."

I laughed for almost a minute, non-stop. No coupon was attached. Guess I gave a gift to Domino's Pizza.

News you need,
whether you know it or not

Kansas hospital confiscates medical marijuana from cancer patient, and calls the cops 

New York's Democratic Governor picks conservative anti-abortion judge for state's highest court 

Supreme Court tells refugees to go to hell 

Newly-elected Congressman admits fabricating his entire resumé: "We do stupid things in life" 

Science reveals unionized workers earn better pay and benefits 

Mystery links
Like life itself, there's no knowing where you're going




Clicks ahoy

How corporations deliberately pit consumers against low-wage workers 

We can’t get mad at the corporation that’s delayed our flight, or “over-billed” (stolen) $400 from us, or removed a life-saving medicine from our insurance, or erroneously reported us to a collection agency, ruining our credit — because we can’t actually talk to anyone to get mad at. They’ve built up walls such that the only way to actually contact them is to retain an attorney and sue them. And even then you’re really only contacting an attorney. But most of their fleecing and robbery falls well below the threshold that would make this make economic sense. And they know this.

Netflix is hard at work destroying Netflix 

How mental time travel can make us better people 

I'm amused by the article's Camp David citation, wherein it's noteworthy, even heroic, that a politician paused for a moment and thought about the future.


How Panic was banned in Massachusetts 

The 1936 sit-down strike that brought General Motors to its knees 

New Year’s Eve parties in the 1950s and 1960s 

What's a job you do that barely anyone even knows exists? 

♫♬  Mix tape of my mind  ♫

Cherry Bomb — Joan Jett 

Fortunate Son - Creedence Clearwater Revival

Light in the Sky — Steve Hillage 

Self-Effacing — Sparks 

Your Wildest Dreams — The Moody Blues 

Eventually, everyone
leaves the building

Rick Anderson 

Daniel Brush 

Denny Doyle 

Dick Flavin 

Diane McBain 

Harry Sheppard 

Christopher Tucker 


Cranky Old Fart is annoyed and complains and very occasionally offers a kindness, along with anything off the internet that's made me smile or snarl. All opinions fresh from my ass. Top illustration by Jeff Meyer. Click any image to enlarge. Comments & conversations invited.
Tip 'o the hat to Linden Arden, ye olde AVA, BoingBoing, Breakfast at Ralf's, Captain Hampockets, CaptCreate's Log, John the Basket, LiarTownUSA, Meme City, National Zero, Ran Prieur, Voenix Rising, and anyone else whose work I've stolen without saying thanks.
Special thanks to Becky Jo, Name Withheld, Dave S, Wynn Bruce, and always extra special thanks to my lovely late Stephanie, who gave me 21 years and proved that the world isn't always shitty.


  1. Ah, man, I never did cook you my specialty green beans, did I? I guaran-fucking-tee they are better than Dean's. Roasted in olive oil salt, and pepper, to a nice degree of slight char, enough for flavor and crunch. I've started doing the same with Brussels Sprouts, they're amazing.

    1. Nope, I've never eaten yours, but my wife did lots of vegetable roasts that fit the description. Marvelous every time, except a few times when they went from roasted to charred. Broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, and the best was the Brussels sprouts. I don't believe she ever did green beans that way, though.

      Are there almost slivers in yours?

    2. No almond slivers, but that may be good. I like the veggies a bit charred, maybe more than you do. There's a fine line between too limp and too burnt.

    3. Charred can be nice, if by charred we mean slightly blackened. My wife's mistaken vegetables were basically all black. She didn't make many mistakes, though.

  2. Here's today's production, to continue the food theme:
    Confessions of a Curbside Weenie
    Chautauqua stopped curbside pickup on November 30th and I sure miss emailing my order in on Thursday and picking up my food on Friday. Are things really getting “back to normal” or is it just politically untenable to continue restrictions?
    I don’t want to go in there wearing a mask because they would think I was a mask weenie, and I am, so why am I so hesitant to show who I really am? Still a very cautious person, I just don’t want the annoyance and discomfort of getting covid, so am not taking any chances, though I have been going into the post office unmasked when there’s no one in there, and the hardware store as well. (The way Garberville’s going it’s pretty safe: there’s few customers!)
    What to do? I invented some excuses to go to Eureka and shopped at the Co-op and ENF wearing a mask, no one knew me there, and I stocked up, bought two weeks worth of food, and damned the possible spoilage, this was a matter of life or death!
    Now the two weeks are up and I’m out of veggies, which is the most important meal of the day, right?
    Meagan was my food girl for over two years, the woman “in my life,” and the sweet, upbeat voice on my answering machine. She was conscientious and communicative about my order and when she stopped doing Fridays said I could change to Thursday to still have her, but I decided to be adventurous and switched to a new shopper.
    The new person, and I have no idea who it was, got seven things wrong with my order, granted they were just small mistakes like five avocados instead of four and three purple beets instead of one purple and two orange, but it was kind of annoying and I ran back to Meagan: she could count and she gave a shit.
    The time has come! I need those veggies, it’s a matter of life and death in a different way now, that cure-all broccoli! No veggies equals death, well at least premature?
    Why do we care what people think about us? It usually comes down to sex, right? They’ll see me still wearing a mask and think, “Look at that scared guy, he probably wouldn’t be very adventurous in bed, make a note of that!”
    No, no one where wants to fuck me, I don’t even know who’s there anymore, is Barney still there with his hopeful jokes? Of course Brenda is there, she’s a fixture, they just wind her up three or four days a week and set her loose, right?
    So here’s the plan: I’ve got my list ready and I’ll go up there when it opens to limit the chance of leftover covids floating in the air, less people to see me scurrying down the veggie aisle maniacally grasping the greenery in my eager paws, then a great sigh of relief driving away.
    Who knows, maybe I’ll have a dance down the aisle with long-legged Brenda, I’m back, baby!(?)

  3. By E Paradise, who else?

  4. Always happy to have Paradise around, and this was a lovely visit, but—

    Wait, you went back to an ex-girlfriend in order to get the right kind of beets? You must be very handsome or highly gifted down below, to make such big decisions over such small complaints, and for her to take you back. I envy the beets of a proper color, though, and I don't even like beets that much.

    > Are things really getting "back to normal" or is it just politically untenable to continue restrictions?

    Both. People are stupid and always have been, so things are already "back to normal". Me, I'll be wearing a mask in public until I'm dead, because I'm not an idiot.

    Please, go ahead and be a mask weenie. I sure am.

    At the diner on Saturdays, my mom and sister don't understand why I wear a mask until the waitress brings the food. Visiting my sister at the nursing home, she's unmasked, the staff is unmasked, the people I go with are unmasked, but who is that masked man? Me, all the way through, and in the car afterwards.


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