The short version: D.C. slices is hands down the best food truck I’ve been to when it comes to customer service. Their food is good too, but never have I ever left feeling quite as pleased, happy, and newly loyal as I did after paying D.C. Slices a visit. Let’s review how they hooked me, shall we?
I was on my way to my competitive Cornhole league, and while caught off
guard, pleasantly surprised to see a food truck set up post-lunch hours
(I work in Alexandria were @foodtruckfiesta informed me they are
banned. I am coping with this on my own terms). Thank goodness I was
early to Cornhole so I could stop and inspect this potential snack
provider. I decided mozzarella sticks were an appropriate pre-game
snack that would give me the proper energy needed to win. D.C. Slices
was quick and efficient, and the mozzarella sticks were satisfactory and
nutritional. However I had this gnawing feeling at my insides that I
hadn’t made the right life choice, similar to how Mrs. McCallister felt
on her first-class flight to Paris as she began to process she’d left
Kevin home alone. After all it’s called D.C. Slices, and one would
assume that pizza is their pride and joy.
followed. My emotional distress mounted as I came to terms that I’d
made the wrong choice. My concentration was broken the whole Cornhole
game. The slices kept haunting me with each toss of the beanbag.
Without a doubt this accounted for my subpar tosses, as usually I am the
backbone of the team and can be heavily relied upon to score the most
points. You can imagine my euphoria when I emerged from a harrowing and
extremely close Cornhole game to find the D.C. Slices truck still
parked outside. With no reservations on being gluttonous, my teammate
and I ordered ourselves two cheese slices. I immediately felt at peace
and a tremendous weight lifted off my shoulders. I knew I’d made the
right choice. Not to mention the pizza was quite satisfying with just
the right amount of grease to cheese to sauce proportions.
where the plot twist occurs. Upon presenting our two slices, the
slices provider declared, “That slice is smaller than the other, so
we’ll knock a dollar off that one.” My jaw dropped almost as much as
the judges did during McKayla Maroney’s fantastically perfect vault.
The slices looked pretty much the same size to my untrained eye, and I
wouldn’t have even thought to complain about this minute detail. The
slices man had nothing to gain from this immensely selfless act besides
satisfied customers (and an adoring blog post, but he couldn’t have
known this at the time), so I applaud his beneficent deed. A regular
Mother Teresa. What a guy.
when I thought things couldn’t get any groovier, I was proved wrong.
My other teammate was waiting for a pepperoni slice and the pizza guys
were making a whole fresh pie. I admire and respect D.C. Slices for not
giving us junk that’s been sitting around under heat lamps. As we were
milling about reveling in our $1 of savings, the pizza guys shoved some
tots out the window and explained “You guys have been waiting awhile,
here are some tots for you.” Stunned. Speechless. Awestruck.
Ecstatic. These words barely capture the tidal wave of emotions
coursing through my cheese filled belly at the prospect of free tots.
And let it be known, the wait wasn’t even that long! I’ve waited
plenty longer at other food trucks (i.e. Calexico Cart), with not so
much as a “thanks for the wait.” Again, I wouldn’t have thought twice
about this wait, and the kind sir had no ulterior motives except the
goodness of his heart to provide us with such a prize. Here’s to you
D.C. slices, for putting me in a far better mood after visiting your
truck than I was in before I met you. You are the Miss Congeniality of
Obviously I returned to D.C. Slices after this first satisfying
experience. I am pleased to report the service remained excellent, with
a side of friendliness and tastiness. And I got these delicious pizza