Falling Domino's

Recently I have noticed new commercials for Domino's Pizza. They are promoting that they have changed their pizza recipe from the ground up (and essentially admitting that their old pizza was crap). But they're so confident in their new and improved pizza that they have put a guarantee on the box offering to refund your money if you aren't satisfied.

Now, I have lofty standards for my pizza. But hey, if they've made these improvements, I'm willing to give them another try—especially if they are promising to give my money back if I'm not happy. Some Domino's coupons arrived in our mailbox yesterday to seal the deal.

Let's walk through Domino's so-called improvements. The crust? It's the same flavorless, spongy mass, only now it has been masked with a little garlic butter around the edges. Does the sauce taste different? A little. But is it an improvement? Hardly. The cheese? Now they're using 100% real mozzarella! Well, what the heck were they using before?

Normally I would just shrug off this disappointment, but I had a stressful day and felt like seeking a little retribution. I picked up my phone and redialed Domino's. A teenage employee answered, asking how she could help me. I explained I wasn't satisfied and wanted my money back. "What was that?" she replied. I politely repeated my request, calling her attention to the guarantee on the pizza box. "Can you please hold?" she asked.

So I waited, presumably for a manager. A minute went by. Then two. Then three. I got the message. I hung up the phone slightly amused, reminded of a scene in Tommy Boy. "Guy puts a fancy guarantee on a box 'cause he wants you to fell all warm and toasty inside. Because they know all they sold ya was a guaranteed piece of crap. That's all it is, isn't it? Hey, if you want me to take a dump in a box and mark it guaranteed, I will. I got spare time."