These stories of my pizza delivering job have become a sort of underground hit here in the House o’ Fun, so I thought I’d share a few different stories since nothing really crazy happens enough.
Our delivery area is huge. Technically our range is a six mile radius from our store, but we go well beyond that in all directions. Basically if the customer is willing to take care of the driver, we’ll deliver it. I almost delivered to someone in Lawrenceburg, Indiana one night, which would have been over an hour drive each way. My manager had already told them no and hung up, otherwise I would have done it.
Despite being surrounded by high-end neighborhoods, there is a lot of country areas we go to, and a lot of backwoods places. The guy who tipped me in farm fresh eggs was in one of those places.
Because of this, I go to some really cool places and see some really cool things. Well, cool for me anyway. As a kid my dad and I would often drive around. Gas wasn’t so expensive back then, and it was a way for us to spend time together while not spending a lot of money. We always had fun spending almost an entire day just driving around, usually through the country areas where he grew up. So for me, driving around through the country and seeing places I’ve never seen before is an adventure.
Recently I had the privilege of delivering to this house that sat off of a side street of a side street, back in the woods. The subdivision, if you can call it that, is made up of an entire array of homes, from trailers to double story farm houses and everything in between. I’ve never seen so many different types of houses in one subdivision. They’re all older houses and no two are alike.
The first time I delivered to this house, I found that they lived on a one way road at the back end of this community. It was snowing hard that night and I had a hard time navigating the untreated roads. I thought to myself, “Man, if one of these houses catches on fire, they’re kind of fucked. No fire truck is going to be able to get back here.”
I found the house and had to park on the street since pulling into the driveway would have been disastrous. It didn’t matter, I was the only one in the neighborhood driving. When I got out I saw the house across the street from where I was delivering had burned down.
I told the customer my thoughts on the way in and then how I saw the house across from them and the guy told me how it had just burned down a year ago. I asked why and he said “The fire trucks couldn’t make it in.”
I see deer all the time. On nights when I don’t, I miss them. Except the other night when I almost hit a pack of five in the middle of the road. Twice.
Or like the time I DID hit one. It was after one of our bad snow storms this winter. I was heading back to the store on one of the main roads. The speed limit is 45 MPH and I was going 50 (I don’t do more than 5 over at all times) and there was a guy behind me a little bit also going my speed. The roads had already been cleaned from the snow, and they were dry, but they were white because of all the salt.
Up ahead I saw a big white pile taking up my entire lane and I thought to myself that it was just a pile of snow and I didn’t slow down. I came up on it fast and discovered that it wasn’t snow, it was the white belly of a dead deer. Its head was laying across the jagged white lines to my left, its back legs were laying across the solid white line to my right. I thought for sure the bottom of my Blazer was going to catch the stomach and the deer was going to get caught under me, causing me to wreck.
I gritted my teeth and hit it. Lucky me I drove right over it, my tires rolling over its head and legs. I looked in my rear view and watched it flop around on the ground as my back tires drove over it. The guy behind me had to quickly go around it, as he was in a car and would have totally been obliterated by the deer.
A half hour later I was coming down that way again and slowed down. There was no deer anywhere. It either brushed that shit off and walked away, or it was carried away by someone wanting some dinner. OR, it was carried away by coyotes. That last one is most likely. There wasn’t even a blood stain left on the road.
That happened right outside of this apartment complex. It’s probably actually high-end condos, the place is ultra expensive but it’s really nice. There’s this woman who lives there, I was told she’s a high-end prostitute, but I have yet to determine if it’s true. I think she’s just one of them extremely attractive chicks who thinks she’s going to get through life on her looks, because so far she has.
Anyway, my first time there she invited me in and introduced me to the other people there. Some chick on the couch and then some guy in a chair. He had this big white turban looking thing on his head and he had this retarded look on his face. She told me his name and said, “He head butted a Cadillac out in the parking lot earlier.” The guy started talking to me, loudly mumbling incoherent words that I couldn’t make out at all, and he was drooling on himself. They were all making jokes at his expense and he couldn’t defend himself because he couldn’t talk. He just kept mumbling and laughing and drooling. Apparently he had tripped and bounced his head off the car. I said, “Shouldn’t he be in a hospital or something?” They all laughed and she waved it off. “Nah, he’ll be fine.”
I’ve been there two more times and haven’t seen the guy since.
Now, we deliver to a lot of pot heads, especially late at night. And they’re all rich kid pot heads, cause as I said, the neighborhoods around us are all nice and richie rich. Here are some stories that will help you to understand when a good time might be to put down the blunt.
One night I delivered to a guy who handed me a five dollar bill and a bunch of singles to pay for his order. In his other hand he had a couple of other singles. After handing me the money he said, “Just give me two dollars back.” I stared at him a minute, then dramatically counted out two dollars from the money he had just given me and handed it back to him. He then handed me the two singles in his other hand as a tip. Then he caught on and went, “Oh yeah. Huh huh huh.”
And then last night at this one house. There are a lot of people living in this house and we’re almost always delivering to several of them throughout the day. I delivered to them twice last night and they ordered twice tonight. That’s just what I know of, they could have ordered more when I wasn’t there. And they’re high a lot.
Last night I delivered to one of the two girls who live there, or are just there all the time, I don’t know, and she was very high. I told her how much it was, $24.86 and she looked at the two single dollars in her hands and said she’d be right back. I’m not sure if at some point she thought two dollars would cover the bill.
When she came back she handed me one bill and said to keep the change. In the dark I couldn’t quite make out what it was, so I assumed it was a fifty and was excited that she’d tip me that much. Then I realized they never tip me that much to begin with, let alone $25. So I squinted in the darkness and saw that it was a twenty. I said, “The order is 24.86.” She looked at the twenty and then at me and told me she’d be right back.
Finally she came back with seven more dollars, thanked me and quickly took her food inside, embarrassed.
Many years ago I delivered to two guys who were so incredibly high they not only forgot they had ordered pizza, but had to ask me five times how much the total was.
Lastly, I wanted to share with you a follow up to my last story about Waldo and the rabbit.
Tonight I got an order from the same apartment where Waldo lives. I was excited. What was going to happen this time? I can’t lie, when I walked up to the door I was a little nervous.
The guy who answered the door was dressed normally and didn’t look familiar, but he told me to hold on so he could go get the money. A moment later the door opened up and another guy came out, also dressed regularly, but he looked familiar. I think he may have been the dude in the rabbit costume. He definitely wasn’t Waldo. When he saw me he smiled slyly, paid me and retreated to the apartment quickly. Like he wanted to laugh but tried not to. I’m not sure if he actually discovered the story I wrote and realized he’s now slightly internet famous, or if he was just brought to laughter by my presence and our last encounter. Either way, thanks for the tip. Order again soon.