| Subject: 4432 Washington. story inside-> |
Author:
Z
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Date Posted: 12:07:30 12/03/03 Wed
Author Host/IP: ip67-95-127-67.z127-95-67.customer.algx.net/67.95.127.67
In reply to:
chad
's message, "Z, who's yard was it ?" on 18:20:09 11/29/03 Sat
Be careful, man.
I don’t know if they will never order again, but I’d be surprised if they’ve ordered since that night. You should take a look at the order history and check it out.
Here’s what happened:
I had just broken the bone and was just sitting there balancing on my right leg like some kind of drunk scarecrow, wondering if the pain would go away. It wasn’t, so I hopped up to the door with my hands full of two bags which contained a 12 piece chicken dinner.
She answered the door while talking into a cordless phone with one hand and holding the money in the other. I started handing her the bags, struggling to maintain consciousness and happy with my apparent success. Then she called into question my pizza delivery expertise, and it was all downhill from there.
“Why don’t you take the money first and then you can hand me the bags???” with a tone that implied she had added an inaudible “you stupid pizza boy” to the end.
“No, you need to put the phone down and take the bags. Then I will take the money.”
I think I said this as cheerily as possible given the circumstances, but Niki tells me that sometimes I have this voice that is easy to mistake as the voice of an asshole. I don’t think that applied here, but whatever...
This was supposed to be a simple pizza exchange. Instead it came out looking like Doc Brown and the Libyans making deals for plutonium.
I was already on my way back to the car when she sarcastically yelled, “Keep the change!” I was feeling so stupid from my hop-and-crawl dance back to the car that as much as I wanted to stop, hop around 180 degrees, and say, “Thank you,” I just couldn’t look her in the eyes.
Then, like a bitch who’d been in heat for three years and had never gotten the goods, she screamed out, “WHATEVER!”
Silence.
Neighbor’s lights come on.
Tires Squealing. Because. I. Can’t. Hold. Clutch. Down. Faint.
That pretty much ended the delivery. It was actually a very good tip and I really feel bad for making her break my ankle. Oh well.
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