I doubt anyone who has a job aspires to someday work at a place with “hut” in the name.
I only know of three huts: Pizza Hut, Sunglass Hut, and Pita Hut. I might be missing some, but I’m pretty confident none of them are named “Constitutional Law Hut,” or “Anesthesiology Hut.” I would rather get legal advice or medical care from someone in an actual hut, than in a place that isn’t a hut but calls itself one. It’s fine if you actually work out of a hut. Maybe you’ve got a Santa Fe alterna-tribal thing going on, like the name you gave yourself has all consonants and you cured my chronically itchy ears with an exotic putty. That would be a good story for me to have.
“Hey guess what? You know how my ears have itched for 15 years? Well, I visited this dude named Vnxng who sees patients in a hut and…no, I have no idea if he was licensed, but that’s not the point…Stop interrupting me, this is good story.
He coated my middle ear with this mystery putty made from a gander and the itch is totally gone…What? Gander is a male goose apparently. Yea, I’d forgotten that too. Honestly, I don’t know what it was. He had a weird accent. He might have said condor, which would actually be way cooler I think. It doesn’t matter, dude. The point is, my ears don’t itch anymore…Side effects? The back of my left knee is really cold, and I killed a dude. He said that would go away after the 4th moon though.”
That’s what happens if you see a medical professional in an actual hut – Not so bad. If you see a doctor in a regular building in a strip mall that just calls itself a hut, like “The Greater Newark Pain Management Hut,” you’re paying good money for counterfeit Chinese oxycontin that’s probably laced with something that will make you move to West Virginia.
I know all this because I worked at a Pizza Hut for 2 weeks in college. If you like Pizza Hut and want to continue dining there or having a goateed high school student deliver those doughy grease bombs to your house, I recommend closing this browser window and refilling your prescription of Lipitor.
I delivered pizzas, but also made them when I wasn’t out on a run to some dark trailer park. I never delivered a pizza to anyone I knew or to any section of town that felt remotely safe. I would say 50% of the time the person answering the door was shirtless. The rest of the time it was a woman.
Here’s what you need to know. The pizza dough is formed into the shape of a pizza and then put in the pizza pan, which has about an inch of oil in it, and then stored in a refrigerator over night. Any pizza you eat from there has been sitting in a pool of oil for at least 12 hours. What kind of oil, you ask? I have no idea. The large containers were marked “PIZZA OIL,” like something from a pantry in the hatch on Lost.
If you absolutely have to get a pizza from a hut, like you’re part of the show “Amazing Race,” or on a wacky Christian treasure hunt that ends with burning copies of “Catcher in the Rye,” try to get it from a dude making it in an actual hut. You might get a bacterial infection, but antibiotics are cheaper than angioplasty. That’s just my advice, take it or leave it.
I’m aware it may seem I wrote this piece under the influence of a potent strain of something funny. I can assure you, that is not the case. It’s midnight and I’m eating fruity pebbles.