“I’m high pizza, low tech.” A life we should all aspire to emulate, I think.
The CEO of Papa John’s lives in my county (sort of in the same city, Kentucky has weird zoning), and also owns or has significant stake in just about everything in my city. This means we are blessed to be constantly inundated with Papa John’s pizza crimes. Every single “pizza friday” in grade school was supplied by Papa John’s. Every fundraising car wash was at a Papa John’s. In general I think they’re an OK-ish chain. I won’t outright refuse a slice if offered, but boy howdy I have reached a point of intimate familiarity with every aspect of that guy’s “work.”
That said, there is one Papa John’s restaurant in town, conveniently located in the Student Activities Center of our local university (which Papa John’s owns about 60% of) which serves maybe the worst pizza I’ve ever had in my entire life. It only makes personal pizzas, they are all “made” and fully prepared about 6 hours before anyone begins ordering them, and they are all prepackaged. The crust was some kind of sponge material, the cheese looked like it came out of a lunchable, and it was invariably served cold. And sadly the pizza wasn’t the worst item on the menu, because for some reason this Papa John’s also served products they claimed were chicken tenders. It was a nightmare place and probably a crime against humanity to force college students to eat.
It’s not all bad here though, there’s a fantastic local pizza place which delivers all night, only serves 18’’ pizzas, and, if you choose to dine in, has this picture of Burt Reynolds occupying one entire wall.