Tuesday, June 4, 2013

It's On a Need-to-Know Basis, and He Doesn't Need to Know

Conspiracy alert! Domino's Pizza wants your address!

You may see nothing wrong with this if you routinely order pizza to be delivered to your door. That door has to have an address for the pizza to find you. However, if you only use Domino's to pick up your own pizza to carry home, they should not be asking this question. Unless they are idiots. Or perverts.

Backroads got a brand spankin' new Domino's last year. They do not deliver way out here in the hinterlands where our rural palace is located. We have never once asked for delivery. Any time we call, it is from my cell phone. It's the same number all the time. I know they see it. They repeat my name about fifty percent of the time, even though I've only given them my number. No big deal. You might recall that this is the place where the dude asked me, after taking my order for a half cheese, half sausage-and-mushroom pizza, "So...you don't want cheese on the other half?" Yeah. And it's also the place with the front wall made of glass, where we pulled up and observed one of the workers riding a big push broom like a stick horse. Strangely enough, none of us have been sickened by their product. So we continue to patronize their establishment.

The last time I called, I got the half-cheese weirdo. His voice is distinctive. Kind of pervy. Kind of breathless. Kind of like that breather/inappropriate-question obscene caller I gained one time after buying a table and chairs at a second-hand furniture store. There was apparently more than one kind of second-handing going on at the place, if you know what I mean. Anyway, the Pizza Perv sounded kind of spaced out. I was sure he would ask me to hold, but he didn't. He kept talking slowly, and took my order. He asked if it was delivery or carry out. Carry out. He asked my phone number. BR 549. Yeah, that's not really my number. I got it from Junior Samples on Hee Haw. Then Pizza Perv asked my address. I was so throw off guard that I almost gave it to him.

"Address? You don't need my address."

"Oh. Uh. The manager...wants us to--"

"I am not giving you my address. Why would you want that?"

"Um. Uh. For coupons, I think. Yeah. For coupons."

"I already get coupons in the mail. I live in Backroads. That's as much as you're getting."

"All right. That will be $8.63. It will be ready in 15 or 20 minutes."


Seriously! Why would they need my address? Either he was too stupid to remember that it was carry out, which I am sure showed on his little monitor like every other single transaction we ever had with them, or he was up to something fishy. No way am I rolling out the red carpet for daytime burglars.

Doesn't the government have a big enough file of information on Val, without Domino's trying to horn in on their act?


  1. I smell something fishy, and it's not anchovies...

  2. When they ask for info like my zip code or tele number when they don't need it I always so no as well...Radio Shack is the worst. THe cashiers act like I have to give it to them and really don't know what to say. I once told a radio shack guy, "Look, I can buy this $.63 connector someplace else without giving up my SS#!!

    Next time you order pizza ask for sausage and mushrooms, but hold the sausage and hold the mushrooms...its a Howard Stern gag...the response is usually very funny.

  3. I just went to a party supply store and the kid said, "Can I have your email adress for mailing purposes?" Oh, was he going to mail the cards I bought?
    I said, NO!
    "May I have your phone number starting with area code? "
    Do you want to donate a dollar to Boston?
    No, is a complete answer. Geeze! What is with people?

  4. Everybody wants your number and email so they can send you crap and annoy you. It's their stinking job. Our job is to smell the rat.

  5. Oh! Oh! Oh! yelled Horshack.

    Linda's comment made me remember something I read in a newspaper. Lots and lots of people give 867-5309 (isn't that the right one? I'm singing the song, trying to make sure) as their number.

    It's worth a try, at least in a party supply store...

  6. Sioux,
    I commend your mad olfactory skillz, Madam, because indeed, there is something rotten in Backroads.

    That's why we quit buying stuff at Radio Shack. As for my pizza needs, I would never try that hold the sausage-and-mushrooms trick. This one guy would probably hold them in his hands, and give them to us along with the boxed pizza.

    You can bet there's money to be made selling your information. Why else bother?

    I must modestly profess that I am good at this stuff. After all, I've made my living rebuffing the out-smarting efforts of adolescents.

    Don't fall out of your chair, Madam Horshack, or sprain a shoulder. Yes, that is the number. We're all Jenny. Now if only I could give that as my address. Perhaps I should fall back on the old standard: 1313 Mockingbird Lane. I don't think the pervy guy would recognize it.