Riiiiiiight. . .

One of the things that bothers me about living in Minneapolis is Pizza Luce.

I think I'm done with them, which pains me, because their pizza is really very good.
We're not talking homemade or authentic east coast worthy, but decent.

My problem with pizza luce is the FUCKING ATTITUDE i get every time I go in there to pick something up (because there would be no way in HELL i would even try to "dine in". . . ), apparently because the one tatoo I have is not visable, angry enough, or GOTH enough, i have no real piercings, and my sense of fashion is probably too "apple valley" for the crowd that both works at and frequents this establishment. say nothing of pulling up into the parking lot in a huge SCHOOL BUS of an expidition. . . I am not worthy of even the slightest bit of human kindness.

and also, the look every time when i neglect to write anything into the "tip" area for the check card signature slip gets me every time. WHAT? you stand there and glare at me until I, THE CUSTOMER, have to inform you that i have ordered a pizza and would like to pay for it, you snatch my card away from me, fling the pizza box at me until the melted cheese is sloshed over the side of the entire crust (at least 3 times this has happened, the lopsided cheese falling off), then thrust the slip back at me and then you are SURPRISED that i'm not writing in a tip?

YOU'RE NOT GETTING A TIP BECAUSE YOU ARE RUDE AND BITCHY.

and you know what the pisser of it is? some day one of you will probably trip over your 4 inch platform boots, gag on one of your tongue piercings and then have to rely on someone who actually knows CPR or the heimlich maneuver to get you going again (who you will then most likely infect with hepititis C, herpes, or god knows what else is lingering in your mouth), and you will still treat the world and every citizen in it who doesn't have a pierced asshole like they are somehow beneath you.

gross.