Thursday, July 30

It is a common theory among delivery drivers that your first delivery 0f the night will predict how your night will go. I'm not superstitious, so I know that statistically any given night is going to fall within a bell-curve, however the first delivery does set the driver's attitude for the rest of the night. Last night's first delivery put me in a terrible mood all night:

The order was one large one topping pizza. Pineapple (yuck!). I was not terribly enthused anyway because I had just gotten in (took Other Chick Driver's shift since she had a flat tire) and there were three deliveries sitting there over 30 minutes and Stoner Manager wanted me to take just his one, single pizza, low total delivery. Imagine how thrilled I was to get to the door and find that it was the Pizza Inspector again. He always answers the door in nothing but boxers; He always finds something to complain about. Last time I was early (who really complains that their pizza got there too fast?!). This time Bambi Bopper didn't mark the pizza as needing to be well done despite him "telling her at least three separate times" that it needed to be so. I believe him. Special requests like this are a little tricky in our system and frankly Bambi's just not that smart. HOWEVER, it was not my fault and I did not deserve to be berated because of it. I told him that I'd take it back to the store and have it remade. He wanted it free, so he made me stand there while he called the store (on speakerphone) to talk to Stoner Manager. He invited me in while he did this. I declined with my best "eat-shit-and-die" smile. So I went all the way back to the store where I made sure his remade pizza was burnt to a fucking crisp. (Stoner Manager very nicely took our biggest smelliest marker and wrote "WELL DONE" in big letters on the box. It was awesome! I could still smell the toxic fumes coming off that box as I handed him his delivery.) On the return delivery I had two other orders one of which had tipped me $4 on a cheese pizza. Guess who got their delivery first. Also, I will remember his house number. I've never wished more that I had less ethics about messing with food. Instead I wish him the best with his pizza.

My whole night was tainted by his sheer asshole-ocity. I ran into Bad Math Guy again. He's decided that instead of trying to figure out a tip he'll just not tip anything.

There weren't really any bright spots in my night. Maybe one of my customer's bedazzled Crocs. They were amusing, a little.

Made a completely non-amusing $25 off of 8.

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