| rev:text
| - This review is about this one location's unacceptable behavior.
To start, I like Papa John's.
* The pizza is reasonably tasty for my family (not as good as the local top notch mom & pop places, but decent none-the-less.)
* The value is exceptional - they have the best specials, which we always take advantage of. Their online ordering and REWARD program is unparalleled (I belong to every chains reward and email clubs, they are all pathetic. Not PJ's! Join and find out!)
* My local PJ is a franchise that in my opinion is a model for any franchise of any type. They know us by face and by name and greet us so when we come in. The food is well prepared and consistent. They service is fast and extra friendly. They rarely screw-up; and IF they do they are apologetic and fast to fix it in a method that we prefer.
So... What about THIS LOCATION??
We were having a family gathering in Phoenix and someone said "Let's get pizza! We'll have Domino's deliver!"
"Wait!" I said. As the pater familias I decided to treat everyone and said "Can we do Papa John's? That's all we ever order and it's great. I think I have a free pizza or two waiting for me anyway?"
"Well we usually get white pizza with spinach and veggies from Domino's" the vegan Phoenician daughter chimed in.
"No problem. Papa John' has that too."
"Do they have an online configurator so I can pick our toppings?" she continued.
"Yeah, it's great."
"Do they still give that Garlic Butter sauce to dip your crust in? That's the main thing we always liked from there."
"Domino's is super cheap..." she challenged.
"Let me login and order. They have great specials, I've got freebies coming. You can pick your own toppings. I'll order delivery and pay online including tip for driver. We'll be eating in under a half hour."
"OK, dad."
Online I go. Couple big loaded pizzas for about 10 bucks each, couple free 2-liters of soda, an apple pie desert pizza at half price. Paid online. Done!!!
Problems begin.
50 minutes later the delivery guy arrives. Someone gets the door, then calls me "to sign the receipt." I come to the door to sign. I only see the pizza's so I ask about the drinks. The zombie with the hot bag blank stares at me with glazed-over eyes usually seen only on reggae musicians. I sign. There is still no response. I ask again about the drinks and the desert pizza. The expressionless zombie mumbles and someone behind me yells "we got it all dad!"
OK!
"Thanks!" I say to zombieman, who slowly turns and shuffles away with no response. He was well tipped, but maybe I needed to offer fresh brains instead of cash to show appreciation to him.
Problems continue.
We open up the pizza boxes. The crusts are uber dark and burnt in many spot. Cheese is mostly brown. I pick up and bite into a piece of Spinach Alfredo and it crunches. It is completely dry, sauce was cooked away. Cheese was dried out too. Both pizzas were like this.
"Gross!" "Ewww" "This is inedible" "They burnt this this!" "Call them back and tell them." were the comments ringing from all my spawn.
"Sorry guys! I'll take care of it. I ordered these 'well-done' as I always order every pizza. It makes the cheese 'break' a little and makes the crust better for dipping. I've talked to store managers about this and know just what they do. The pizzas are amazing that way. Someone screwed these up. They are burnt. I'm sorry." I
lamented.
Problem gets worse.
I call in. I explain the problem. I ask what they did to mess these up. Unapologetically, the fellow on the other end explains how they cooked the pies and seems to know the correct method for well-done pizza. As a retired restaurateur, I can only figure either the pizza handled did something different, or the ovens in that store are turned-up a bit for faster cooking which fouls up a "well done" order.
Either way, they guy on the phone was apathetic but said "We can remake those for you."
"Ok. Thanks." I say "These are inedible." ...click... "OK, guys! They are making new pizzas!
AN HOUR LATER. Let me repeat. AN HOUR LATER, a snarly, untipped female driver brings 2 perfectly cooked "well done" pizzas.
By that time, my hungry spawn had torn out and devoured all the semi-burnt-but-still-somewhat-edible-as-long-as-they-are-covered-with-ranch-dressing center nuggets of the unholy abominations this location had first delivered. The group had subsequently moved on to the livingroom to watch True Blood.
"Hey, the new pizzas are here! They are prefect! De-LISH!"
But no one was interested any more.
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