11 weeks between blog posts! What has become of me? I did want to take virtual pen to virtual paper though on a situation that did take place in the recent past.
We need to go back in time a bit, like maybe 7 years. As most of you faithful readers know, I moved to Texas in 2006 and then back to Indiana in 2009 and then back to Texas again in 2011. While in Texas the first time, I came into my company’s headquarters office to work. The office is quite large and could hold 10,000 employees if needed I imagine. I really have no idea how many people work here though. Anyway, in my first stint in Texas, I frequented the cafeteria for lunch quite often.
Despite having plenty of choices like made to order hamburgers, fresh pasta, deli sandwiches, sushi, salad, etc., I rotated between the taco / burrito and pizza sections with the pizza place being my preference. You can get a loaded, 10” personal pizza for less then $5 and single topping or cheese only pizzas were closer to $4. I would normally get my pizza “to go" so it was put in a small, cardboard pizza box which I carried over to the check out lines to pay for it. This is where I first met the Pizza Nazi.
This name is a little cruel but her demeanor is so much like the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld that I could not help calling her that. There were 3 lines with 3 cashiers but she was the only one who would make you open your pizza box to make sure you were not lying about your toppings. I don’t know why this bothered my so much but I think it was because I felt like she assumed I was lying. The way she asked you to open your box (with a non believable “please”) just did not set right with me.
It was the way she asked, the words she would emphasize, the pauses she would insert that drove home this feeling of being wrongly accused. I cannot explain this very well with text. You would have to hear her voice to know what I mean. I would hear that accusatory voice from time to time in a crowd or on the street and it would stop me in my tracks. Was it just my imagination, or was she watching me? I tried to avoid her line when I could but sometimes when her line was way shorter than the others, it was just too obvious that I was avoiding her by getting in a longer line. I would try to figure out if she had a day off and eat in the cafeteria on those days. Ultimately I moved back to Indiana and left the cafeteria and the Pizza Nazi behind.
When I returned to Texas in 2011, I quickly found a cubicle back in the same office and noticed (almost as quickly) that the Pizza Nazi no longer worked in the downstairs cafeteria. 2012 and most of 2013 came and went and I resumed my pizza eating schedule and the world was great until…
I remember the moment that I realized that she had returned. I was getting coffee one morning and heard her voice, that voice that had haunted me for those many years. I cannot explain the daunting feeling that came over me at that moment. I was disheartened, almost frightened even. She had returned and my carefree pizza purchases, with only mentioning what was in the box and not having to open the lid, were over.
In her defense, she does seem more pleasant, or at least appears to be attempting to be more pleasant. But even her “Thank You” and ”Have a Nice Day” seem forced, like she has been told to say those phrases but does not know how to convince the customer that she means it. Again, text cannot do her speech justice. I have stopped buying pizza again in the cafeteria but mostly due to calorie watching more than avoiding the Pizza Nazi (though she does play into the overall stoppage). I do buy coffee in the morning but she never asks me to lift the lid on my coffee cup. So, other than bearing her forced “Have a nice day!”, it is not too much to tolerate.
Jon
