I approached a pizza restaurant in a food court of a mall, finally deciding after great deliberation to just get something already. Observing the menu, I saw some "Combo Meals": various entrees that came with sides and a drink. The number 1 combo was a piece of cheese pizza and a beverage. The number 2 combo was a piece of peperoni pizza, cole slaw, and a drink. I ordered:
"I'll have a number 1, please."
"Um... uh... let's see..." the awkward teenager behind the counter stammered. Here we go, I thought.
"We don't have any cheese pizza..." She seemed confused. This is not rocket science, I thought.
She glanced behind her to a slightly older-looking awkward teenager who appeared to be the acting Senior Teenager. He surveyed the situation, and then matter-of-factly turned to me and said:
"Get a number 2."
Aaaand we're off. I responded "I don't want cole slaw." An excellent point, I thought, and this seemed to stump him. Another subordinate teenager joined the debate and they all 3 exchanged words in a tight pizza-place-employee huddle. They were undoubtedly weighing the pros and cons of whatever solutions that they could concoct. After a few minutes (seriously), the Senior Teenager breaks the huddle, gives me a businessman's smile and says "We'll take care of it." I pay for a number 1 and wait.
When I met back up with Paige with my meal and explained why it looked the way it did, she laughed. I wasn't so entertained. I cursed the Russian customer service and sat down to eat the piece of pepperoni pizza I had been given. All of the pepperonis had been pulled off.