I was cat called

By a small group of young boys.

They called:

Hey pizza woman.

I don’t identify

As female

But it seemed progressive

That the kids didn’t assume

All delivery professionals were men.

A plasma donation center orders from [Pizza Store] often.

I don’t know why they call it donation

Because you sell them your plasma.

That’s not donation,

Selling your body.

But they order too often for their health.

I want to tell them they can only order twice a week.

But they’ll get a better deal on their second order.

I just don’t have the authority to make that call. 

———————————

BONUS MATERIAL HERE! 

When I think of infinity

I think of waiting at a red light

With diarrhea.

When pizzas are ready to be sent off

To their new homes

They sit under the heat-lamp

Facing out.

Away from the oven.

I returned from a delivery,

A triple delivery,

After close

And saw seven pizzas facing out.

Ready to meet their new families.

But I was ready to go home too.

I made an FML sound

And my manager started laughing.

Not because he loves sending me on deliveries after close

But because he loves putting old receipts on empty boxes

To trick me

And to laugh at my misery. 

———————————

story idea submitted by sadpengus 

I delivered to a manufacturer of cheap cookies.
Low quality cookies.
High-fructose corn syrup flavored.
A display of cookies in their lobby, 
Arranged in a colorful bouquet, 
Distracted me so I didn’t hear the customer the first time.
I said, “What?” 
He said, “For your child support,” 

And handed me a five.

I delivered to a manufacturer of cheap cookies.

Low quality cookies.

High-fructose corn syrup flavored.

A display of cookies in their lobby,

Arranged in a colorful bouquet,

Distracted me so I didn’t hear the customer the first time.

I said, “What?”

He said, “For your child support,”

And handed me a five.

The thing about the computer system

At [Pizza Store] is

It makes Windows 95 look like

The Technological Singularity.

High tech.

New employees take about two or three shifts

To learn

How to jump between screens. 

The phone rang

And I was standing right there,

By the phone,

So I answered.

The man on the other end knew right away

What he wanted to order

But when I asked for his phone number

He put me on hold

And took a few minutes

To figure it out.

————————————

BONUS MATERIAL HERE!

It’s short.

Don’t be scared. 

Just click.



Not my regular format,

I know.

I’m sorry.

But check my piece on electric cereal today. 

(Source: electric-cereal)

I don’t know how to react

To people

Who act overly nice,

Too nice,

While they stiff me.

I prefer a verbally abusive customer

Who tips.

Maybe.

I don’t know.

After ringing the doorbell I heard a man say:

Coming.

Then a child’s voice:

I’m coming too.

The man signed the credit card receipt and the child described her stuffed friends to me.

After I handed over the pizza the child said:

I have something for you too.

She pulled three dollars from her purple toy purse and held them out to me.

She said:

I have all these moneys for you.

I took the moneys and thanked her

But before I turned around to leave she held out a small donkey.

She said:

Don’t forget your cracker.

I took the animal cracker but I never ate it.

You never know where a customer’s grubby hands have been

Or what they might have done to a cracker. 

Once, while delivering in the summer
In the desert
In my car, sans AC,
(Without AC 
LOL)
I yawned because the heat was making me drowsy.
The moisture evaporated off my tongue as I exposed it to the desert air.
I had to steal a Mountain Dew from the cooler
When I stumbled back into [Pizza store].

I had no choice.

Once, while delivering in the summer

In the desert

In my car, sans AC,

(Without AC

LOL)

I yawned because the heat was making me drowsy.

The moisture evaporated off my tongue as I exposed it to the desert air.

I had to steal a Mountain Dew from the cooler

When I stumbled back into [Pizza store].

I had no choice.

Sometimes people order online

On Sunday.

[Pizza Store] isn’t open on Sunday

So the online system gives us the deliveries on Monday.

Makes perfect sense.

Corporate logic.

When I show up at customers’ doors twenty-four hours late

They don’t usually want their pizza anymore.

And they don’t usually want to tip on a delivery they don’t want.

Anonymous said: How much do you make a year?

Professional pizza delivery is one of those occupations where we don’t keep track of what me make,

At least not very accurately.

The in-store crew,

Who don’t rely on the tips deliveries can get you,

Probably know better.

But my best guess…

On an average day I probably only make about fifteen pizzas.

Let’s forget about the outliers.

So fifteen times five days a week,

Times forty six weeks

(Yes I take a lot of time off work. I’ve got a life.)

Equals 3,450.

So my best guess,

And remember, it’s an estimate,

Is that I make about 3,450 pizzas a year.

In the parking lot of an apartment complex that I deliver to daily

A kid appeared at my car’s window

As I recorded the tip I’d just received.

His voice came first,

Then I saw him standing there

Eye level with me.

He asked if I had extra pizzas.

Kids always think I have extras

But I never do.

So I wanted to ask him why I would drive around with extra pizzas in my car.

I wanted to understand the childhood logic that compels kids to ask for the extra pizzas I never have.

But I just said no

And rolled my window up.

I have an aunt,
I have four aunts but I’m talking about a specific one,
Who texted me a picture. 
I say ‘Ant’ but really it’s ‘Aunt.’
The picture was a written statement
From a first-grader.
This kid’s statement: his lifetime career goals.
Just one goal really.
He wants to be “a pissa guy.”
Yes, pissa, no Zs.
This kid gives me hope

That the next generation will be OK.

I have an aunt,

I have four aunts but I’m talking about a specific one,

Who texted me a picture.

I say ‘Ant’ but really it’s ‘Aunt.’

The picture was a written statement

From a first-grader.

This kid’s statement: his lifetime career goals.

Just one goal really.

He wants to be “a pissa guy.”

Yes, pissa, no Zs.

This kid gives me hope

That the next generation will be OK.