Photo via Flickr user Matthew Blouir
Until 1993, Domino's Pizza had a "30-minutes-or-less" guarantee, promising customers that if their pizzas weren't delivered to their doorstep within half an hour, they'd be free. In 2016, Domino's has learned that if it takes more than a year to deliver a pizza, they'll have to pay that customer $912.Last April (as in 2015) Tim Driscoll—a lawyer in Sydney, Australia—ordered three pizzas, two orders of garlic bread, and two liters of Coke from the Domino's website. Driscoll paid $37.35 AUD ($28.62) and assumed that his pizza would show up within the hour, even though it was a national holiday weekend. When 60 minutes came and went, Driscoll called the store and a stressed out manager told him that he'd receive a refund. That cash never materialized either.Driscoll spent a full year trying to get his money back and, after celebrating the first anniversary of The Pizza That Wasn't, he decided to take Domino's to court. "They kept saying they were looking into it, but after 12 months of fobbing me off with 'we'll get back to you,' I thought I had to bring it to a head," Driscoll told 9News.An Australian court heard Driscoll's case on Wednesday and awarded him damages of $1203.27 AUD ($912), which included a full refund for those missing pizzas. In keeping with a theme, Domino's didn't show up in court either, or attempt to contest Driscoll's claim. The company initially said that it would appeal the judgement, calling it a waste of the court's time, but a day later, its attitude was softer than a freshly baked order of breadsticks."We are disappointed and embarrassed to hear that we have let down a pizza-loving customer," Domino's said in a statement. "We can confirm that we provided free pizza vouchers to our customer at the time of the incident, but we clearly could have and should have done more."It took a year and a half, but Domino's is finally tripping over its own shoelaces to make it up to Driscoll. According to The Guardian, Domino's delivered a complimentary lunch to Driscoll's office and, we're pretty sure that the next time he wants pizza, a panting delivery guy will be on his front porch before he hangs up the phone. Thirty minutes or less? Only for Tim Driscoll.