Stone Round Table – Desert Ice Cream – Finger-ed food!

Cooped up in the house is not cool, but with this latest heat wave passing through, we’re gonna lie low where the air is cool, keep the doors closed and run the AC. Depression is starting to set in . . . the fridge is depressingly low on food. For some reason it has had no refills. There is just tomatoes (go figure), baking soda, eggs, 4 kinds of mustard and a couple of slices of lunch meat. Oh yeah, the all-important beer and wine . . . still good for tonight! Need to refill everything tomorrow.

The ice cubes are starting to run scarce because the ice makers are trying to keep up with demand. Sheesh . . . time to order delivery. Going to have to send someone out to buy ice cream though. Like I said, we’re running out of the essentials. So hot, we don’t even want to go out in the heat to buy the dang ice cream. Thank god for driving teens. Let’s see what kind he brings back. The suspense is killing me!!!

Tonight’s Round Table Pizza (seems appropriate for our address) order is the first time we’ve ordered home delivery from this location. Since we live out in the middle of nowhere, we’ve heard they deliver to this address but have yet have tried it out. I ordered the Gourmet Veggie (usually really good,  . . . at least from other locations) and the Montague’s All Meat Marvel. I don’t know if we’ve ever had the second pie. It has been some time since we’ve eaten at a Round Table; tonight just seemed fitting due to the heat. We’re all looking forward to it. Let’s see how long it takes and how well it turns out. Thank goodness I have just enough Stone IPA to get me through. Ice cold and frosted glass. READY!

Wow; just a couple of days ago, raining – thunder and lightning – super humid conditions – monsoonal. Today; windy desert heat blowing in and super dry. Tomorrow is supposed to be even hotter. Combine all this with the fact that the world is “going to hell in a handbasket”. Yeah I heard that one today . . . I somehow am finding it to be somewhat appropriate.  Obama is keeping everyone busy.

This is super rare; our house with the air conditioner on at 7:30pm waiting for the damn pizza and ice cream . . . all while trying to communicate with some dude named Tony with a heavy Indian accent; who says he’s “not far from us”, all while trying to fix the Sprint network, and why these things (smart phones) are not texting. Don’t you just hate modern-day customer service. JUST FIX MY PHONE!

Turns out the only decent selection of ice cream tonight was Neapolitan and Cookies and Cream. I guess those would be considered “the ol’ standby” since we get them from the camping supply store below our house. Really the only problem is paying $6.50 a carton for the creamy good stuff. It’ll work!

Pizza said it would be 45-1 hour . . . where the hell is it??? Now you know why we never get delivery . . . just Digiorno. We just didn’t feel like working on anything in a hot kitchen (making the pizza) and going out in the heat. Sheesh, I can’t believe I decided to drive the VW Bug to work today. At least this time I made it . . . you know, to work and back.

Official pizza time 1 hour 6 mins, and no pizza . . . CritDicks, time to be a Dick! Ha, . . . He just showed up . . . 1 hour, 13 minutes.

So he brings the pizza, I tip him, he walks away. The dogs are barking again . . . he knocks again. As I’m walking to the door, my son says, “what kind did you get, BBQ chicken?’ Now, we NEVER order BBQ Chicken . . . ever, nor would we . . . probably ever. I get to the door and again it’s pizza guy with two other boxes and he says he gave us the wrong pizza’s. So I go back in the kitchen to find two pieces already plated and a pepperoni and chicken piece already missing. I tell my son to put them back in the box . . . . . . . . . Hell, it’s not our fault.

I give the boxed-up, previously-plated pizzas back to the guy and tell him we already plated them. He smiles and say’s, “oh well”, takes them and walks off. I’m not sure what that meant . . . but “oh well”. I would like to be able to continue the story, but . . . What would you do??? Really? I think somebody’s lucky we didn’t take a bite. Should’ve . . . Oh well, next time . . .!

I’ll just have to give this night one piece of pizza with a bite out of it. All fingered and everything. Gross!

Time to change colors – Johnny. (Sailors, you followin’?)



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