Tuesday Night Pizza Club

After escaping from the office at a little after 6pm this evening, and making the epic journal (about 100 yards) to the hotel, I dropped my backpack, got changed, and set out in search of something to eat for dinner.

I had every intention of walking straight to the pub next door to order pie and chips, but somehow found myself calling home, and walking across the twenty eight lanes of traffic – perhaps a slight exaggeration – to the local supermarket.

Here’s the thing. The supermarket sells pizzas, and they tell you they will cook them for you. For a pound (about 1 dollar 40 cents). I’ve never done it, because… well… I don’t know why really. Tonight I had a fit of bravery, and pretended to be “choosing a pizza” for a while, hoping somebody else would come along and ask the supermarket to cook them one. And that’s exactly what happened.

A man in a reflective jacket – almost certainly a construction worker – handed a pizza over to the staff –

“Can I have one of these cooked please?”

“Of course – come back in ten minutes.”

And that really was all that was required. I got all brave and immediately picked my own pizza – one the size of a garbage can lid, covered in pepperoni, and chilli, and chicken, and whatever else.

“Can I have this cooked please?”

“Of course – come back in ten minutes.”

Ok. So what do you do in a supermarket for ten minutes when all you really went in there for was to get a pizza cooked? I had a brainwave, and went in search of re-sealable sandwich bags. I could eat the leftovers for lunch tomorrow. Finding the bags took thirty seconds.

Next stop – the drinks aisle. I briefly thought about buying a cheap bottle of wine, but still had half a bottle from last night’s shopping trip. Oh look – there are those energy drinks. I convinced myself right there and then that the best thing to help my body fight the remains of the cold I have had for the last week would be an energy drink. And some chocolate. And a tub of pringles.

I still had five minutes to waste.

I’m sure I can think up a good reason for buying one of those emergency batteries to charge my phone when it goes flat. This wasn’t just any battery though – this one can apparently charge a phone six times. I picked it up to “have a look”, and then mysteriously found myself scanning it through the checkout a few minutes later.

Along the way I wandered back up to the pizza counter. The girl didn’t show a flicker of recognition as I wandered up, smiling, and greeted me as you might any other person if you’ve had to deal with 10,000 numpties during the day.

“Can I help you?”

“Ummm… you were cooking me a pizza?”

“Was it the spicy chicken one?”


“Here you go” – and she handed me a carboard box the size of a paving slab.


“You’re welcome” – and she actually smiled.

I thought myself tremendously clever as I walked back to the hotel with my prize, crammed into a bag with the chocolates that were slowly melting next to it.

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