Hello? Pizza joint? Is anyone home?

All I want is a pizza. And maybe some bread sticks. You know, something starchy and fatty that I'll enjoy in the moment and then pay for later. Is that so much to ask? Apparently, it is. I've placed six phone calls to three different locations of a national pizza chain, and they all say that they don't cover my area, someone else does. I've talked to three different managers. They all point the finger at someone else. Now I'm waiting for one of them to call me back and tell me, finally and for sure, which location will take my order. I'm not holding my breath. It really shouldn't be this hard to sin.