Friday, January 05, 2007

Papa Can You Hear Me?

Dear Times Square Area Papa John's (or, Douchebags of the Week):
Answer your fucking phone already! Or, get your old manager back who used answer the damn phone before the 11:00 "official" opening. Who do you guys think you are that you can't--or won't answer the phone before 11:00? Today, I gave up after calling up until 11:15 and ordered from your rivals. Do you know how many times we've ordered from you? Don't you want to make money so that you, too, can live in a brick mansion on 16 acres in Kentucky, like your founder? I did have plenty of time to check out your hilarious "gallery of quality" on your website, where your mass-produced pre-fab pizza is presented to us as serious quality control. What. Ever. Here are some screen captures to remind you.

It's a little scary how none of your pizzas ever have bubbles. That sounds a little suspicious. The phrase, "perfected in the laboratory" comes to mind. Okay, the crust on this pizza looks downright plastic. Are you guys for real?
I don't see a drop of sauce in this picture (except for the inset photo). Am I supposed to believe it's there just because you're pointing at it?"Cut in equal slices and placed together." Wow, thanks Papa! I'm so sick of opening a box of pizza only to find uneven slices stacked on top of each other!
This is my favorite screen capture. What's the Caution label for? They're not giving you the bag, so I guess they want you to know that they care about their delivery boys.

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