Pizza Pizza (In a creepy Little Caesar's voice)

BEFORE


Dining in Dallas is an endless adventure. For us twenty-somethings, we wish our pockets were endless too. Unfortunately, they end. A lot SOONER than we expected. Allowance is possibly the greatest invention in the world. Think about it—your parents basically sponsor your eating, drinking and rent throughout college, and all you have to do is stay there and pass classes. (Well, for some, the passing part is difficult, but it wasn’t too bad for me). Then, May hits you, and all of the sudden, once you have a job, the allowance well dries up. On June 1st, I asked my dad for my allowance, and he looked at me like I was an idiot—“What allowance, you work now.” Well, ya, I work, but I also have to pay bills and pay for dry cleaning, and most importantly, EAT. How am I supposed to do that without allowance? There is only so much Ramen I can eat before my face swells up like a balloon. If you want to go out to dinner and have one (6) martinis and a meal, you’re looking at upwards of 50$. That’s 50$x3 nights—plus going out after—and that is one number that isn’t pretty. Well, your money troubles are over, so stop eating peoples leftovers, because at Campania, the BYOB pizza restaurant in West Village (ehh), you can have 2+ bottles of wine, a huge pizza and 3 salads for less than 20$.

After receiving a TXU bill for 800$, I panicked—but panic doesn’t suppress hunger, or the need to go out on a Friday, so I got to thinking…Campania. I’d been there once, but I was with people who thought Rosé wine magnums were an acceptable drink, so I really needed some new company. So, three of us went, and got there around 8:45. The waiter said it would be a 45 minute wait, but he would uncork as many bottles as we had, so we didn’t mind the wait. If you are waiting, I think they don’t charge you a corking fee, but if you are seated, it is a 5 dollar fee. We waited for about 15 minutes and watched a bunch of West Village-ites act like they were eating, and laughed at the 50-something men who were with their 25 year-old fake boobed girlfriends. People watching should be an Olympic sport. (PS—I don’t judge these people who I write about, I guarantee I am far more weird/idiotic than they are) but they are fun to mock nonetheless. Anyway—we only waited for 15 minutes and were seated next to a large group of old grannies who seemed to be on an awkward first quadruple date—they had clearly been drinking before they got picked up, had several cocktails before their wine, and were most likely on their tenth bottle of wine. The uncomfortable gentleman on the end, who happened to be wearing pants that perfectly accented his fupa, and a shirt that clung to his mobs, spilled his water twice—once on the table and once directly on his and his date’s pizza. (Side note: If I were ever on a date where he spilled liquid on my food, I would cry, say horrible things, then get outta there—even if the relationship was serious.) His date didn’t seem at all perturbed, which implies that she was just as drunk as he.

Anyways, we sat down and uncorked a second bottle while looking at the menu which was pointless since we had already piggily discussed what we were getting—small caesar salads and splitting a pizza with pepperoni, mushrooms and artichoke hearts. The service wasn’t bad, it was 9:15 by that time, and our salads came quickly. The salad wasn’t impressive, but it didn’t need to be. They definitely abused the use of caesar dressing. The pizza was legit—thin crust and plenty of toppings. Would definitely go there again—basically free food.




AFTER (WHALES)
Me: 4 chins
Shannon: 5 chins (She’s from Graham, not many restaurants there)
Mary Martha: 4 chins