A slice of hope

I went for pizza yesterday.  Cheese pizza, obviously, as the enforced vegetarianism is going strong.

My waiter, a lovely guy, stopped to ask how things were going.

"Great, thanks!"

Waiter, "Would you like some esperanza sauce for your pizza?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Esperanza.  It's our special sauce.  Do you want esperanza on your pizza?"

I grinned.  "No thank you.  I like my pizza hopeless."

He blinked at me.  Blink.  Blink.  "Huh?"

I didn't feel like explaining it, so I brushed it off.  I promptly texted my best friend to share my joke.


Always practical, she wrote back.  "How does hope taste?"

"Like Caesar salad dressing."

"Hmmm.  I'm not a fan of hope then."


I love her.


(Esperanza means hope in Spanish, for those who might not know.)