pizza treat

the pizza men have been biding their time. watching me walk past their window. waiting for my resolve to crack and for me to finally give in to the lure of their fabulously bad pizza. as soon as i walk in, the plan is put into motion. foreign language instructions are exchanged at the back of the shop and within seconds of ordering my pizzas it all starts to happen. first one man inexplicably comes to the front counter to chop an unnecessary onion, then another comes to give the kebab piece a cursory poke and a turn, yet another moves ahead to rearrange the already perfectly arranged salad bowls. the last one, bereft of any possible excuse to come and gawp just comes up, gives me a nod and walks back to where he came from. seems i fully passed the inspection. i come away with a free pizza, a free drink and a lot of friendly smiles from my friendly neighbourhood pizza men.