Having dropped my daughter off at gymnastics, my son and I went across the road and ordered ourselves a ham pizza to collect later. As the man was taking down the order, my son kept pestering me about getting extra cheese because he had loved that when we'd had a plain pizza the last time, while I desperately tried to explain that the Monday and Tuesday night special offer only covered cheese and one topping, and that extra cheese would cost us a lot more.
Once I had ordered and paid, I asked the man if he needed a name. "No, that's fine," he said. "I'll recognise you."
When I collected the pizza an hour-and-a-half later and glanced at the receipt, I realised why he knew he'd remember us: the customer's name was given as "Mr Red Hat and Extra Chz".
Once I had ordered and paid, I asked the man if he needed a name. "No, that's fine," he said. "I'll recognise you."
When I collected the pizza an hour-and-a-half later and glanced at the receipt, I realised why he knew he'd remember us: the customer's name was given as "Mr Red Hat and Extra Chz".
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