A particular friend loves a gourmet butter so much she gets bulk shipments to her home. You open that fridge and those blocks of butter look like gold at Fort Knox. Butter bricks blocked the light in there.
Once just before the holidays, a huge box arrived and instead of perishable butter, it contained dozens of packages of dark chocolate almonds. When my friend contacted the company, they told her it would be too complicated/expensive or whatever to take it back, so keep the chocolates, and butter is on the way. The chocolates were amazing, and she was making it rain like confetti with the almond handouts. I was glad to be on that list.
But I’ve always wondered if a customer somewhere ripped open a shipment to start crunching endless almonds and found enough butter to carve an Elvis sculpture at the Iowa State Fair.
My mom and I were sharing a pizza at a new-to-me place. It arrived and did not seem as meat-saturated as the menu would imply. My first bite was okay. I enjoyed the sauce, but the crust was underwhelming.
There were not the usual “yummy sounds” we make as we dine. A few bites later my mother said she thought the marinara was good. A few more bites later she said she was not impressed by the crust.
Then the waiter came up to us with a box of pizza. He said he was sorry, he had served us a different one than we had ordered. Something about the crust being different. So we were about to take up a whole extra pizza that would be essentially the same as the one we were currently enduring.
Guess what. Once we had a free pizza in our sight, the first one seemed to improve greatly. Our dinner out improved, just like that.