That pepperoni pizza was not bad Manchester Grand Hyatt in San Diego. But it was not a 12 inch pizza. That was easily a 16 inch pizza. Admittedly, you never claimed it was 12 inches, but the guy on the other end of room service who called me "Mr. Dillon" did, and he was way off.
I feel much better now about letting my work pay $22 for that. Not great, mind you, though I would have eaten calamari and that new Miller Green Beer if I hadn't run into familiar faces earlier, which would have cost about the same.
By getting room service at 10 to 11, I was able to drink the last of my three Acme beers I brought and charge the pizza to my room. It was pretty tasty. I was surprised. If I didn't have breakfast plans for tomorrow morning, I'd kill off the second half of you for breakfast without doubt.
But don't worry $22 16 inch pizza: I'll eat you. Luckily I have a whole fridge in my huge kitchen that I can store you in, otherwise, I'd have to crank the AC to keep the whole room cold enough to preserve you.
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