1 Happy St

About a year ago, a new restaurant opened up by my work called Chicago Pizza House. Ignoring the fact that it wasn't technically in Chicago, I decided to give it a try. After all, there were plenty of restaurants calling themselves Chicago or New York or Boston without technically residing in those respective cities. So as I was perusing their menu for the first time, (I hadn't realized until now that I have perused before, but I guess I have) I noticed one item inexplicably absent: friggin pizza!

"Excuse me Miss," I said to the waitress. "I don't see pizza on this menu."

"Oh we don't have pizza," she said matter-of-factly, apparently oblivious to the name of the establishment in which she worked.

"Fair enough, I'll take the chicken parmesan."

Now I'm pretty sure that at the time, I wanted to argue with her about how confusing it is to call one's self the 'Chicago Pizza House' under circumstances such as these. But I probably also figured that she was just a waitress there and wouldn't have carte blanche when it came to menu items. So on my way out, I filled out a suggestion card with the following statement: 'you should probably sell friggin pizza'

Fast-forward to today: there is a new sign on the window of the Chicago Pizza House that states in bright bold letters 'WE NOW SELL PIZZA'

Now you know who to thank for that.