11/8 Forgetful

I called in Friday night and (shhh, don't tell El Jefe) I completely bullshitted the reason. I won't tell you the reason I gave because it was lame but instead I'll share one of my favorite excuses that's guaranteed to get you out of ANYTHING.

The excuse: "I can't come in today, I was playing with my little cousin and it turns out they have pink eye. I talked to my doctor and he says I could be highly contagious even if I'm not showing symptoms yet but we won't know for another 24 hours if I have it."

You're welcome.

I didn't work Saturday either, not because I called in, I just wasn't scheduled. I was supposed to go to a music performance but chickened out because I didn't have anyone to go with and after my disastrous social butterfly experiment on Thursday, I wasn't in the mood to go stag.

Which brings us to last night. I took seven deliveries 6 of which were $2 tips. It was raining. I forgot my hat (had to borrow a visor), pen (used a purple marker I dug out of my car), my belt (hard to argue that I'm chubby when my pants are falling down), and my hoodie (had a jacket making me wish I wasn't stuck with just a visor). But on the good side there was a perfectly delicious mess-up pizza ready when I got there and El Jefe forgot to make me do an end-of-night job.

$24 off 7.

Pizza needs Parmesan like Pudge needs Peanut Butter

I was home sick yesterday and I decided to order a pizza delivery from the closest store in my chain (because I actually like our pizza and don't mind paying full price if I'm not near my store). Little did I know that I was about to become one of those customers, the complaining customer. I would like to think that any one of you would do the same.

The facts:

• I ordered our cheepy-special. I hate when customers order this, but I intended to tip well and this is still more food than I needed.
• The delivery driver did not carry Parmesan.
• I tipped him $5 anyway
• The pizza was barely warm. So barely warm that I warmed it up in the microwave before eating it.
• One slice of pizza had its cheese and pepperoni stuck to the top of the pizza box rather than on the pizza.

The complaint:

• I called to complain to the manager. He offered to remake the pizza, I declined, I didn't want to wait another hour for a new pizza and I've developed an ability to eat sub-par pizza.
• BUT I wasn't going to pay for it so I asked him to credit me a pizza.
• This store does not issue credits, I had to either take a new pizza or have them bring me my money back.
• I chose my money back and let the driver keep the tip BUT I was really trying to avoid having them make a second stop to my apartment because it's a waste of the driver's time.

Consequences:

• I won't be ordering from that store again.
• I'm going down to standard tipping ($3) unless they bring me some GOD DAMNED Parmesan packets. Seriously, we have pouches on the delivery bag for them. It takes less than 5 seconds to throw some in there (even if you don't volunteer them at the door). I don't give a shit about corporate policy, I always bring them with me even on free orders and shitty tippers so that if they ask I have some. From now on, good tips go to drivers to have good customer service and the only thing I want is Parmesan.

Pizza needs Parmesan like Pudge needs peanut butter:

Hula Teacher: Lilo, why are you all wet?
Lilo: It's sandwich day. Every Thursday I take Pudge the fish a peanut butter sandwich...
Hula Teacher: "Pudge" is a fish?
Lilo: And today we were out of peanut butter. So I asked my sister what to give him, and she said "a tuna sandwich". I can't give Pudge tuna!
[whispering]
Lilo: Do you know what tuna *is*?
Hula Teacher: Fish?
Lilo: [hysterical] It's fish! If I give Pudge tuna, I'd be an abomination! I'm late because I had to go to the store and get peanut butter 'cause all we have is... is... stinkin' tuna!
Hula Teacher: Lilo, Lilo, why is this so important to you?
Lilo: [calm] Pudge controls the weather.

10/31 Oh Halloween, sigh

Halloween was actually much less eventful than one would think. We were smashed (but not as smashed as last year) for a while, but it died down to nothing as soon as the sun set. I made sure to pick up some candy at each delivery.

Amusing:

• Dark chocolate Kit Kats - the premium choice for Halloween candy.
• Lightsabers - for some reason they just make me happy

Not amusing:

• People avoiding trick-or-treaters and not answering knocks on their door. Hello!!!! You ordered pizza, what the hell did you expect me to do when I got there? Answer your fucking door and make those kids cry if necessary (ok, don't really make them cry), just don't make me wait!

This conversation happened at least three times that night:

Me: Trick or Treat!
Customer: Oh! What a great Pizza Delivery Person costume!
Me: ...and I'm extra realistic, I brought pizza.
Customer: hahaha
Me: hahaha

While normally it's a little weird to play my part in the formulaic "witty" banter of my customers, I was okay with it on Halloween.

Friday night I made $26 off 6
Saturday night I made $30 off 8

10/30 A Scary Story

In a cold shopping center, a little way from the city, surrounded by crickets, there lived a Bopper. This Bopper was normally content with answering phones and folding boxes. He was rather good at folding boxes. He never told anyone but he was a little scared of the pizza ovens with their sinister chains and gears. He somehow knew that on its way from the makeline to the cut-station those pizzas passed through Hell.

One breezy day, the eve of All Hallows Eve, the pizza store was very busy. People were going to early Halloween parties and they needed to feed their kids so they ordered pizza after pizza. Drivers came in and out, taking the pizzas to their destination. People came in and out picking up the pizzas they would take home. Stoner Manager squished and poked, prodded and tossed the dough over and over again. Thing Two sauced and topped, over and over again. Old Bopper summoned a snowstorm of cheese, never a speck landing where it wasn't wanted, and set the pizzas on their journey. The store was a perfect pizza assembly line.

There was only one problem... at the end of that assembly line, emerging from the fiery depths of the pizza oven, there was no one there to welcome the newly arrived pizzas and divide their goodness so that all may enjoy. Pizzas were getting close and closer to the edge. With no one there to catch them they would surely fall and the assembly line would fail. So Stoner Manager called on our Bopper to take up the mantle of the cut-station, little did either of them know that the Bopper's worst fears were about to come true.

It was about ten minutes later that it happened. The Bopper had almost started to think his fears were unfounded. After-all, the pizzas seemed ok, he didn't really have to touch the oven. As long as he didn't think about it and focused on the routine: peel under grate, turn, peel under pizza, into box, cut one, cut two, cut three, cut four, extras, close, repeat. And everything was ok, until some chicken strips came out. Peel under grate, turn, peel under paper, open box, Spiders!

A Leftover Damn-the-Man

With all the busy blogs this weekend I forgot to mention Sunday's Damn-the-Man. It was right after I had taken a second trip out to someone's house for a soda and I would normally detour to take the road over my favorite low-water crossing but we've recently had a lot of rain so I knew that my spot was flooded (and I'm not the type of driver to attempt crossing a flooded bridge). But I decided to go down there to take a picture of it even though I knew I'd have to turn around and go all the way back out to the main road to get back to the store.