Pizza and the Big Fat Denial

So Reagan and I went out for pizza today, which has become our Sunday tradition. This is the one thing you can get in Szerencs... since there are no restaurants. Just this one pizza place that is 1.5 miles from our flat and a bit out in the country. The pizza toppings are a bit different here than they are in the States. Ham is the big meat, and they put it on everything. Pepperoni does not exist, instead it is some kind of salami.

So I decided to order a pizza in Hungarian and special order it.

You all have experienced my "special" ordering in restaurants, which usually consists of me making a list of ingredients and having the server determine if my special request can be cooked or not. I have not done any of my "special" ordering in Hungary because my language skills are so inept. But for some reason I got brave. I ordered a medium pizza with sajt, sonka, gombas, hagyma and zold borso. That would be cheese, ham, mushrooms, onions and green pepper. Only not. I screwed up the pepper part. Instead of green peppers I ordered green peas. Oops. Sigh. So close.

Then we decided to venture over to the grocery store to stock up on a few staples, but lo and behold Sparrrrrr was closed. Of course, it is Sunday after all. So we went across the street to the yucky grocery store, Penny. We don't like Penny. Their meat coolers have blood all over them and the selection there is not good. We picked up a few random items, primarily junk for Reagan and coffee for me, and went to the checkout line. Our checker got us all checked and showed me the total. I handed over my credit card only to have her shake her head no. Huh? The sign on the door said that they accepted all credit cards. So I started pointing at the door and she started scolding me in Hungarian. Ummm.... nem? She came over to the door and pointed at a hand written sign that I am going to assume said that the credit card machines were broken. Denied.

So we checked our groceries back through and then we had to play hide and seek with them through the store returning them to their shelves. Oh the joy. Just another day of ticking off the local Hungarian folk. Happy Sunday!