“Alright, Dean. I told the pizza place to put Sam’s salad in its own bag so it didn’t even come near your pizza but I think–” You stopped short when you reached the entry to the library.
“Happy birthday,” Dean said with a grin. You had no words as you looked across the place, at how your boys had transformed it as best they could with streamers, a small pile of brightly wrapped gifts on the table, even a cake.
“What happened to the Christmas decorations I had up?” you asked, taking a few steps forward.
“Y/N, I don’t even know what Christmas is,” Cas replied, head tilted slightly. Sam rolled his eyes with a smile from behind him.
“The plan was to make it more about Y/N’s birthday instead of Christmas, Cas. You don’t have to act like you’ve never heard of it,” he said.
He walked to greet you, taking the food from your hands and placing it on the table behind him. Dean made quick work of getting pizza onto plates, pushing Sam’s salad to the side.
“I had no idea you were doing all this,” you said quietly, afraid your voice may break if you spoke in more than a whisper. Sam’s smile was radiant as he ran his hand down your arm, encircling your wrist with his thumb and forefinger the way he did, like he was your own personal watch.
“You told me you’d never had a birthday that felt like it was just your day,” he said, matching your tone. “This is your day. I want to celebrate you.”
You covered your face with your free hand and leaned into his chest, laughing into him and feeling a new warmth, right there in the dead of December.
Okay so I got off work and called my mom and I was like “ay yo ma, I’m on my way, do you need me to get you anything for dinner” and she’s like no so I say cool and go about my own merry way. But it’s like a forty-five minute drive home. It’s late and I’m hungry so I get myself Chinese food, right? And then literally as I’m receiving the fried rice unto my hands, she calls and says “can you bring home a pizza?”
This is my mom, man. Love that lady to death. So I’m like sure, and I call in the pizza. So now I’m sitting in the pizza place parking lot waiting for the order to finish. And I can smell my own food and I’m starving. So while I’m waiting and texting, I open the container and start nomming. Then this lady pulls into the spot in front of me and sits on her phone. Obviously waiting for something too. I nod politely/awkwardly and avert my gaze like the socially inept turtle I am.
Minutes pass. My timer goes off. I set my food back in its bag and go get my mom’s pizza. Then as I’m buckling my seatbelt, getting ready to drive home, I grab a slice of her pizza. Because jfc it’s pizza. I take a bite and I look up and I realize the woman in the spot in front of me is just staring at me. In either awe or horror or some strange mix of the two.
She’s just seen me sitting alone in the parking lot eating fried rice and teriyaki chicken, and then I got up, went inside, came out with a large pizza that she has NO REASON TO BELIEVE I plan to share with anyone else, and continued eating. It strikes me that maybe I should be ashamed– maybe embarrassed. But instead of slinking away like a normal person capable of social assimilation, I just lifted the slice of pizza towards her like “cheers” and drove away.
Car salesmem are by far the rudest most entitled pizza delivery customers i have ever had to deal with.
I’m covering a morning shift for a fellow driver on a Saturday. It was his honeymoon. I have never once delivered to this particular car dealership before. I never work saturday mornings which is when we get our business orders.
Its about $150 dollars worth of food. Three bags of pizzas and breadsticks. It is near impossible to carry three full bags of pizza, the straps arent long enough. I get there and ask for…let’s call him J. There are three car salesmen sitting outside waiting for a customer. The two young men gesture vaguely at the door with neanderthal grunts and mumbles of what i suppose is english. I start to struggle to get the bags out of my trunk…i glance imploringly at the young men doing nothing and they avoid eye contact. The elder man asks if i need help and i graciously accept.
I get into the break room and put down the load. I never take the pizza out of the bags until i get paid. An tall older man slams the door open and starts to yell at me. It’s J. “Where are my plates!? You should have my plates. You need to go back and get my plates!”
I tell him politely that sir i don’t brings plates unless instructed and there are no instructions on the receipt. Cue more yelling than the “You should know i need plates! I order from you all the time! Your manager knows me!”
My brain goes on autopilot (i have ptsd and my mind shuts down when i get yelled at). I start to say yes, sir sorry sir right away sir. I get the money and high tail it out of there ready to chew the ass off my manager for not telling me this guy needed plates.
She’s of course not in store so i have to go back and give him the plates then continue to go on deliveries. When i get back into the store J called.
He told her that i was rude and argued with him and was disrespectful. He would like to talk to our hiring manager about his hiring practices and i should be fired.
Do you know what my boss told me? A woman whom I’ve worked with for over a year and damn well knows i am NEVER rude to a customer.
She told me that i can’t talk to customers that way and he is an important customer so it was out of line of me.