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?