I Never Heard From Bella Rosa and We Haven't Been Back

I was cleaning up my desktop last night and found a letter I wrote a Pizzeria in Monroe last summer, hoping they'd reply with a gift certificate for a free pie (it is the least they could do). I saved the letter so that when they replied I would be able to share with my twin-sister-separated-at-birth-but older-with-different-birthdays the letter that I wrote (and they actually replied to). Sadly, I'm giving up on them and just posting the letter I wrote on this blog.

In my investigation, I believe the bone in barbecue chicken pizza was likely a hand bone, an ulna, or a radius bone. I don't think it was a thumb (do chickens have thumbs?). I do know that the incident occurred and I mailed the bone to the pizzeria. I'm wondering now if it may have become stuck in the post office sorting machines and they never got it. Perhaps I should send another letter asking if they did. I can attach the first one along with a new one. I'm scratching my chin hairs thinking this is a possibility.

re: A Bone To Pick With a Particular Buffalo Chicken Pizza

Dear Friends and Management at Bella Rosa,

First and foremost, I wish to applaud your pizzeria and to acknowledge that I am a loyal customer, and when I am in the area of Monroe with friends, I often thumb wrestle with them (and win) so that Bella Rosa is the pizza joint of choice. For the last few years, on occasion of parties, gatherings, and friend-events it is a norm to pick up a few pies at Bella Rosa.

Our favorite is usually the Buffalo Chicken Pizza, and that is why I write. Last weekend, I picked up a cheese pizza and a Buffalo Chicken Pizza before heading to my twin sister’s house (separated by birth – she’s older). We’ve been trying to avoid carbs, but when we choose to splurge on yeast and dough, Bella Rosa wins –which was the case for this past weekend. Unfortunately, my twin sister and I get so excited about feasting on anything other than celery and carrot sticks (are typical bunny rabbit diet throughout the week) that we forget to slow down while we eat.

That is probably why we didn’t catch that there was a chicken bone in the Buffalo Chicken Pizza. We didn’t discover it until it got temporarily lodged in my throat and I had to cough it out. I am returning the bone in case it might be important to you and the chicken suppliers for your restaurant. My twin sister was my savior that day and I’m very lucky she was with me. I hate shoe shopping with her (never take her to DSWs), but I am thankful she kept me coughing. I’m upset, though, that she made us throw the pizza out in case there were more bones

I’m also worried she might use this against Bella Rosa the next time we get together for pizza. Ah, man. I hope not. It really is good pizza.

The Dalai Lama once said, “The purpose of our lives is to be happy.” I believe pizza serves a purpose in our lives.

Thank you for your time.

Bry-Guy.

I hate when I don't get responses, especially on this one, because it's been a long time since I've sent such a letter. It's an art form I truly love. I'm so glad I didn't choke that day.