Pennington Pizza
I grew up in Hopewell Township. Our mailing address said Pennington, but we didn't live in Pennington proper. In the words of Barbara Mandrell we were ghetto when ghetto wasn't cool, paraphrasing of course. I've heard of this happening with Princeton.
In town there was Pennington Pizza a 'joint' located at the intersection of Rte 31 and the aorta of Pennington. I'm not sure what who all the players were, but I remember Sal.
You could walk in and Sal would beam, a charming smile, a wink that said volumes. If you called in an order Sal would correlate your number with some bizarre pickup line, like:
Sal: "What's your number?"
Anyone: "Ahem, 1."
Sal: "You are my number one."
Me: "Of course I am. Is my pizza ready Sal?"
Sal: :"What's your number?"
Me: "ummm 10."
Sal: "You are a ten."
Me: "Me and Bo Derek, yup, are my sandwiches ready Sal?"
I think they purposely skipped #69 - can you imagine???
Mom and I went in for dinner one night. Sal came over with his schmarmy charm and asked us if we were ready to order. Mom said, "Can I get Fettucini Al Fredo?" and Sal said, "You can get Fettucini but Al Fredo, he a left." Hahahahah!!!! We had to hold our bellies from laughing.
We used to leave school to have lunch at P.P. - unauthorized of course and one I remember looking up from our booth and greeting the assistant principal, "Hellooooooooooo Mr. Pontiff! Top of the morning to ya!" He was delighted to see us, phew!
It should be noted that Pennington Chinese (it was called something else) was located close by and Mom would go in and the gal at the counter, who could twirl a pen like nobody's business would say, "That's Eighteen Dollars and Twenty Cent." and Mom would say, "SSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssssssssssss" thus providing the plural the counter person was missing.
In town there was Pennington Pizza a 'joint' located at the intersection of Rte 31 and the aorta of Pennington. I'm not sure what who all the players were, but I remember Sal.
You could walk in and Sal would beam, a charming smile, a wink that said volumes. If you called in an order Sal would correlate your number with some bizarre pickup line, like:
Sal: "What's your number?"
Anyone: "Ahem, 1."
Sal: "You are my number one."
Me: "Of course I am. Is my pizza ready Sal?"
Sal: :"What's your number?"
Me: "ummm 10."
Sal: "You are a ten."
Me: "Me and Bo Derek, yup, are my sandwiches ready Sal?"
I think they purposely skipped #69 - can you imagine???
Mom and I went in for dinner one night. Sal came over with his schmarmy charm and asked us if we were ready to order. Mom said, "Can I get Fettucini Al Fredo?" and Sal said, "You can get Fettucini but Al Fredo, he a left." Hahahahah!!!! We had to hold our bellies from laughing.
We used to leave school to have lunch at P.P. - unauthorized of course and one I remember looking up from our booth and greeting the assistant principal, "Hellooooooooooo Mr. Pontiff! Top of the morning to ya!" He was delighted to see us, phew!
It should be noted that Pennington Chinese (it was called something else) was located close by and Mom would go in and the gal at the counter, who could twirl a pen like nobody's business would say, "That's Eighteen Dollars and Twenty Cent." and Mom would say, "SSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssssssssssss" thus providing the plural the counter person was missing.
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