The Domino’s Robot Keeps Calling Me

by Audrey Clark

A while ago I ordered Domino’s, and right before it arrived I got a call from the Domino’s robot. The call came from an unknown number, and I answered with a cautious, “Hello?”

“Thank you for ordering with Domino’s. Your hot, fresh pizza will be arriving shortly,” said an upbeat prerecorded voice, “Please be waiting at the door to receive it, and make sure to have payment ready.” 

“What the hell?” I said, “I selected contactless delivery, and I already paid online. You don’t need to call me, robot. What a waste of a call.”

There was no reply. I hung up and shook my head. A few minutes later, the pizza arrived. I didn’t meet the driver at the door, and I didn’t have payment ready. I didn’t need to. 

I forgot about the call until the next day, when my phone rang again.

“Hello?”

“You recently ordered delivery from Domino’s,” said the same cheery voice, “We hope you enjoyed your hot, fresh pizza, and continue ordering from us. Your patronage means a lot!”

I waited, expecting the voice to ask me to take a survey, or offer me a special deal or something. It didn’t. 

“Stupid call,” I said, “What is this, pizza aftercare? Ridiculous.”

The next call came when I was at work. This time the caller ID just said “Urgent”, and I excused myself from a meeting to take it. 

“At Domino’s we’re always trying to ensure our customers have the best experience possible,” said the same recorded voice. It was a man’s voice, and I wondered if he was a hired actor or part of their marketing team, “That means hot, fresh pizzas, delivered in under thirty minutes. Is that okay?”

I hung up and blocked the number. I got another call later that same afternoon, this time from “Husband.” I didn’t have a husband. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” said the prerecorded voice, “We just wanted you to know that Domino’s really enjoyed delivering hot, fresh pizza to your door, and we’d really like to do it again sometime. But if it was just a one time thing, that’s totally okay.”

I decided to lodge a complaint, but when I called the number on the Domino’s website I was less than pleased with the result.

“Thank you for calling Domino’s customer support,” said the same tinny, overeager voice, “A representative will be on the line shortly. But maybe we could just hang out for a bit. Chat about some of the hot, fresh pizzas in the Domino’s Value Range.”

I felt icky and hung up. Almost immediately, my phone rang.

“At Domino’s, we don’t want to seem like we’re too clingy,” said the voice, “Actually, we’ve been delivering lots of hot, fresh pizzas to this guy, Michael Ableson. He’s a lawyer. So honestly, don’t even worry about ordering from us again.”

“You really brought someone into the booth to record that message?” I said. No reply.

Michael Ableson was part of my choir group, and when I asked him about it, he was just as clueless.

“Uhh, I guess I ordered Domino’s, like, once,” he said, “About a month ago? My daughter had some of her friends sleep over. It’s not exactly a regular occurrence.” 

I didn’t get any further calls from Domino’s, and assumed they must have finally fixed the strange glitch in their system. Michael and I talked a lot more after that. I’d never considered dating a single dad, but before long I couldn’t imagine life without Michael, or his daughter Nora. When we got married, I asked her to be our flower girl. 

The ceremony was beautiful. Nora was adorable, wearing heels under her dress and hurling flowers into the crowd with great force. I cried during my own vows, and during Michael’s, and it was all I could do to stop myself kissing him right then and there. 

Our officiant said most couples skipped over the “If anyone has reason to object…” part, but perhaps out of smugness, we kept it in. This was a mistake. As soon as he said the line, a nervous voice from the back of the hall called out, “Um, excuse me?”

The girl couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old, and she was wearing a Domino’s uniform.

“I have a large Loaded Supreme for Cassie,” she said, “And in the special instructions, it says, um, “At Domino’s, we love you. We should’ve said that sooner.”.”

“For god’s sake,” I said, “No. Out.”

The delivery girl nodded sheepishly and turned to leave. 

“Wait, mommy,” said Nora, “Can we keep the pizza?”

Michael shrugged.

“Sure,” I said.

The three of us ate the pizza together during the reception. It was hot and fresh.

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