North Beach Pizza treats me like a thief

Dear North Beach Pizza,

I just ordered a pizza from Round Table. Frankly, I prefer eating yours, but the last couple of times I ordered from your Mission Street outpost, I was left with a conflicted feeling inside. This time, I decided your pizza just wasn't worth the emotional overhead.

Let me explain. A few weeks ago, I called to order a pizza. It was the usual set-up: I say what I want, and you tersely read me back my order. (It's all business with you, isn't it?) This time, however, you paused when I wanted to do something I do every time: use my credit card. Apparently my account says that I'm untrustworthy.

The unfortunate person on the phone said I couldn't use a credit card and had clearly not been taught what to say in such uncomfortable moments of confrontation because I asked why and was told that the computer said so. I was forced to escalate.

I explained to your manager that I liked your pizza and thus wanted to clear the matter. I said that I always pay with a credit card and never encountered a problem before. Certainly no one ever contacted me about one, and you have my phone number. I insisted that if there was a problem in the past, I wanted to resolve it. I found myself in the very weird position of having to sell you on me, to convince you to want me as a customer. 

Perhaps your manager had heard this type of rambling before because he seemed unmoved. But I'm tenacious, and I pressed on. I guess I wore him down because he eventually succumbed, and my credit card was accepted. The pizza was great (as always), but it took a lot of work. 

I thought a lot about what happened and have a theory, assuming you're right about me not paying for a pizza. It has to do with the fact that my credit card was recently stolen, and I was issued a replacement. Perhaps I ordered a pizza and the payment was authorized on my old card but failed to clear before it was inactivated and replaced by my new one. It's only a theory since you couldn't give me any information about why you won't take my credit card. 

In fact, the theory is unimportant. The point is that I thought a lot about what happened. I re-lived the experience over and over in my head, and it didn't really matter that I got the pizza in the end because the experience just bugged me. I couldn't let it go because I consider myself an upstanding person, and my reputation actually really matters to me. I'm the kind of person that goes back into a store when I've been undercharged, and I prompt checkers to scan items that appear hidden. So it hurt me to know that you think I'm some kind of pizza thief when I truly make a concerted effort to live my life on the up-and-up.

From a customer service perspective, it was unfortunate that you couldn't tell me precisely what had happened and simply allowed me to right the situation. Instead, I'm just blacklisted. Done.

I tried to order another pizza a few weeks later. The computer apparently stills says that I'm untrustworthy. I realized that my conversation with your manager was just a one-off, and that you don't care to let me clear my name, which is actually really important to me. My business, it seems, is just too much trouble for you. So I paid in cash, and by doing so, I felt that I was validating your view of me. 

So today I had the cash; I just didn't have the will to go through that debasement again. I realized that you were too much trouble for me. Your pizza is good; it's just not that good. I guess I got my pride back. 

I don't imagine you'll ever take the time to salvage our relationship (even after I tried so hard the first time) so I don't expect to be calling you again. Round Table is just fine with me because enjoying pizza is more than liking the pie. It's about feeling good about myself and how I spend my money.

Oddly, the best part of calling Round Table was the conversation itself, which revealed that the person on the other end was actually listening to me. He made a witty joke about my new address, and it showed a human side. Then, when the pizza came, I noticed that the box said, "The Last Honest Pizza.®" I thought there was something quite fitting and rather true about that.

-joanie