Many years ago I worked in a pizza parlor, mainly as a delivery person, but when deliveries were slow I also did what I could behind the counter. Whether that was waiting on customers, cutting up stock, cleaning or what have you. With that today begins a stream of adventures and or mis-adventures in that said land.
One time the cook was pulling a pizza from the oven while I was at the ready with a box open on the counter, slicer in hand waiting to do the inevitable carving of the pie. About the time I finished this task I saw the perfectly cooked pepperoni laying there a top the pie looking up at me, begging me to finish him off, which I did with delight. Being so much wrapped up in this momentary lapse of good judgment I did not notice the customer coming through the door heading toward the counter. The cook did and was ready to greet him. For whatever reason the cook asked him if that was his pizza, to which he replied as there was no one else in the store “it’s either mine or his, he’s eating off it”.