I hate Domino's Pizza. I have for years, and it's one of those truly sweet hatreds that I have stoked and cultivated across years. I've written about my reasons before (most notably here, in which I relate the Story of the Dessert Pizza in all its pathetic glory), but personal disappointments aside, what my loathing comes down to is the simple fact that Domino's serves some of the worst, most inedible "pizza" ever created by man. In a 2009 survey of consumer-taste preferences, Domino's ranked dead last--tied with Chuck E. Cheese's. But I don't need any survey to tell me what I already know: that in the pantheon of restaurant pizzas available to Americans, Domino's sucks dirt down in the basement.
Yesterday, though, Domino's did something that at least marginally raised its profile: It saved a life.
And OK, so it wasn't Domino's as a whole that did something good, just one of their delivery drivers, but still--nice work. I'm not so embittered that I can't give all the credit in the world to delivery driver Susan Guy for going out of her way to check on her regular customer. I'm not so black-hearted that I can't celebrate the luck and caring that turned a missing large pepperoni and two Diet Cokes into the rescue of an injured woman. Pizza-delivery drivers have long been unsung heroes (if for no other reason than they bring me pizza when I am too drunk, lazy, or otherwise engaged to go and get it myself, and occasionally save people trapped beneath fallen tree branches), so I'm glad that, as a profession, they're finally getting some love.
But still, none of this makes a Domino's pizza any better. And none of it makes me willing to forgive and forget. I'll carry my grudge against Domino's to my grave.
Even if I too am helped in avoiding that grave by some other heroic Domino's driver someday. You ever read the story of the Frog and the Scorpion? Yeah, I understand myself well enough to know that I'll be the scorpion in that story every time.