A Fresh Start

There I was, waiting for my order, when in lumbered the Missing Link.

Five foot ten, build like a brick outhouse. He stared at the board showing the wide range of pizzas on offer.

“Yes?” asked the pleasant chap behind the counter.

Missing Link - his waistband somewhere around his knees but, thankfully, wearing a long football shirt that was just long enough - shoved his hand into his back pocket, prompting concern in my mind that this would force his trousers down past the point of no return. He continued to stare at the pretty pictures and bright colours.

“‘ow much,” he started tentatively. “would uh trudishnul be wiv free extra toppin’s?”

“What size?”

“Uh?”

“What size of pizza, sir?”

“Oh.” This was a tough question. Could he read the numbers 9, 12 and 14 and - if so - decide? “Noine.”

“Well, the traditional pizza is £3.60 and extra toppings are 60 pence each.”

This was clearly not the answer that the Missing Link was hoping for.

“Buh …” he started, and I swear I could hear a hint of tears in his cry for help, “‘ow much would uh trudishnul wiv free extra toppin’s be?”

Pizza Guy looked at the Missing Link and decided not to push him too far (a wise decision in my opinion).

“That’s five pounds twenty.”

I couldn’t help myself.

“Five forty.”

Both turned to look at me. Missing Link spoke first: “Huh?”

I could see the various outcomes stretching before me as clear pathways. One led back to Em3 Acres. The other to the Norfolk & Norwich A&E department.

“Never mind.”

Thankfully my order - the usual 3″ quark, celery and sweetcorn PizzaLite(tm), of course - arrived almost immediately thereafter but why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut? When will I learn?