Holiday Pizza Order

I walked into the Domino's store to pick up one large pizza. I gave the counter employee the name on the order. He checked if it was ready. It was not. Needing six more minutes to bake. So, I waited there in the lobby. Reflecting on something I wrote on my order. There was a significance to the name I used. It wasn't mine.

It's become tradition for me when ordering carryout food at restaurants to not attach my own name to the orders. Instead, I use names of family members who have passed away. It's my sentimental way to have frequent reminders of these loved ones. Keeping the promise that I wouldn't forget them.

Tonight, I was recalling my grandmother Bernadine Reinke, nee Sullivan.

The lobby was empty. Not a surprise, even though Christmas was just days away. I arrived right before closing time. I'd been doing research for an upcoming presentation and lost track of time in my studious endeavor. Ordering a pizza just in the nick of time. Moments ahead of midnight.

One of the employees told me how fortunate I was to arrive when I did. Informing me that they'd been slammed with customers only hours earlier. Preparing insane amounts of pizzas, wings, and breadsticks for festive parties.

Luckily, the only food in the oven now was mine. The group of workers was cleaning up and organizing things for the next shift. One of the gals asked, "What's your name? I've seen you in here many times." It appeared that she was speaking for the rest of her coworkers. They each looked toward me.

I responded, "I'm Blake. And you are correct. I've been to this store plenty of times. It's close to home." I followed that up with, "What are your names?"

One by one they rattled them off. Followed by another query tossed at me. The lanky, cheerful teenager Sanjay donned in a Santa hat asked, "Did your wife place the order tonight. I saw your ticket with the name Bernadine on it. It's an interesting name I've not heard much before."

I clarified that I don't have a wife. But shared that it's my grandmother's name on the order.

The one called Merritt immediately succeeded that by asking, "Is your grandma visiting you for the holidays?" I was surprised by these questions as we were nigh upon the stroke of midnight. Their talkative nature made more unexpected given their exhausting efforts from the mad rush they survived earlier.

It was refreshing dialogue though after the many hours I had just spent alone meticulously thumbing through an assortment of stuffy journals and books.

I replied to Merritt's question. Opening up to them about my meaningful system of putting names of relatives on my carryout food orders. A reminder of the good times I had with family members who have passed away. On this night, using the name of my late grandmother Bernadine.

My response clearly and emotionally impacted them. Their questions ceased as did their cleaning and organizing actions. Damarcus broke that momentary stoppage by saying, "I love that you do this. I lost my grandmother last year. I miss her every single day."

Those hard-working employees resumed their final tasks of the night while each of them shared a heartfelt story of someone close to them that they too lost. Including a best friend, an uncle, a sister, and a son who were mentioned.

When my pizza finished baking, Mateo got it ready and brought the box over to me. He came around the counter, hugged me, and told me to take a two-liter of pop out of the cooler as well. "It's on the house," he said.

Before I left to guide my sleigh home, that entire group of spirited elves came up to the counter to lovingly send me off into the glorious silent night. Each of them hugging me and exclaiming, "Merry Christmas Blake. And Merry Christmas Bernadine!"

Joy to the world Grandma. You are not forgotten.

This vintage mistletoe and holly is brought to you by that jolly guy, relatively speaking. That guy who's been an awful good boy is Ron Blake and he can be found bringing good tidings to you and your kin at rblake5551@hotmail.com.

About the Author

Ron Blake Ron Blake is an artist and writer born in Gary, Indiana and raised with four siblings in the Chicago suburbs. Blake graduated with an MPA from Indiana University. He is a proud honorary Pennsylvanian contributing articles for Erie Gay News since the Obama Presidency. Also contributing articles and Op-Ed pieces for numerous LGBT publications as well as for USA Today, the Chicago Tribune, and Austin American-Statesman. He now resides in sunny Phoenix, Arizona. Instagram, Ron Blake (@blakelateshow) | TikTok, Ron Blake | LinkedIn