Of all the junk mail that’s been pushed through my door, one item stands head and shoulders above the rest: my laminated menu from Pizza Hot.
Not Pizza Hut. Pizza Hot. A subtle but important difference.
It’s not the substituted vowel that amuses me. It’s the plastic coating. The sense of permanence is unflinching. They obviously don't think you’ll ever throw it out. That's pretty optimistic.
It also shows commitment. Let’s assume the menu was delivered to every house in Hitchin. That’s 33,352 people. Even after divvying them out to approximately three per household, that’s still 11,117 properties. The mathematics may be crude, but my point still stands.
That’s not taking into account the neighbouring towns of Stevenage and Letchworth, who also fall into the Pizza Hot catchment. They have an accumulated population of 117,600. That’s a heck of a lot of laminate.
They obviously weren't afraid to flash their cash. But was it worth it? I’m not convinced. You may be able to wipe your menu clean, but that doesn’t mean you’ll keep it.
I did, but that’s different. I kept it for comedic effect; I’ve never bought a pizza.
I wonder how long it will last. Does a lacquered document have a similar degradation rate to a plastic bag? If so, then my menu may be preserved for future generations. Perhaps it’ll end up as a 21st Century equivalent to the Rosetta Stone.
I'd better keep it as a family heirloom.