The true story of missing meatloaf and a tin of complimentary fuck-up potatoes.

This turned out to be not such a hot day, Artizone-wise. They delivered my food order [see previous post] right on time, just like always, except today was fraught with disaster. I’ll back up and start at the beginning so you’ll know what’s what, okay?

The Artizone driver shows up at 4:30. Sam answers the door, signs for the delivery, tips the nice dude and puts everything away in the fridge. Then he walks into the study to ask me how come I didn’t order more of those terrific cheesy twice baked potatoes we got last time. I tell him I did; I ordered FOUR. He says well, we didn’t get them; we got a tin of mashed potatoes instead. So he brings me the container from the fridge and sure enough, it’s a measly little foil pan of mashed potatoes with a few cheddar cheese shreds sprinkled on top. For $14.50.

So I contact Artizone customer service using their “live chat” feature online because we all know how much I love to type. I tell Raphael what happened, he apologizes profusely and offers me two options. He can either make arrangements to re-deliver the correct potatoes first thing Saturday morning OR he’ll give me a credit for the cost of the potatoes ($14.50), refund my delivery charge ($5.95) and I can keep the mashed potatoes FOR FREE as a complimentary fuck-up gift. I choose door number two.

Fast-forward about 90 minutes. Sam and I are starving and ready for dinner. He decides to try the chicken enchilada casserole that Artizone delivered and I tell him I want a slab of the meatloaf (I ordered two pounds) and some of those complimentary fuck-up potatoes. I’m sitting on a stool in the kitchen watching Sam rummage through the fridge when he finally looks up and announces: WE DIDN’T GET ANY MEATLOAF. Instead he pulls out two little foil pans of rock-hard frozen meatballs floating in red sauce labeled “Thaw overnight in refrigerator. Heat and serve.”

Thaw overnight? THAW OVERNIGHT? I’m starving RIGHT NOW, you assholes, and who the hell asked for meatballs! I WANT MY MY DAMN MEATLOAF!

This time I decide to call Artizone customer service on a real telephone, and as luck would have it I actually wind up with Raphael again. I tell him: “Great news, Raphael, now I don’t have any meatloaf to serve with my missing potatoes,” and I think the poor slob starts to cry. He refunds the cost of the meatloaf ($16) and tells me to keep the meatballs, which apparently are worth $24 ($12 per tin) according to their website. So I’ve basically got a fridge full of expensive food I didn’t want, but since most of it’s free, anyway, I’m figuring what the hell, I actually came out ahead. And Sam said the chicken enchilada thing was MIGHTY TASTY.

It’s nearly midnight and I’M STARVING. I ate very little for dinner due to being despondent about a severe lack of meatloaf, so I think I’ll just enjoy a nice wedge of braunschweiger on a paper plate with teeny sweet pickles and watch TV for a while with Sam. Thank you for reading this and don’t forget to come back tomorrow.