TalesFromThePizzaGuy: Harry Potter and the Tale of the Multiplying Orders.
So I get called in to close tonight since the closing driver is out sick. A little weird since I worked with him on Monday but whatever. Probably hung over from Fourth of July.
Mind you that I haven’t had a day off since I came back from Europe. I landed Wednesday, got called in Thursday, worked my scheduled days Friday through Tuesday, and got called in today. Luckily I SHOULD be off tomorrow.
I’m coming in as closing driver on a Wednesday. Nothing too bad, right? It’s pretty nice for the time I’m there, two of my buddies are the other drivers, the girl my manager is banging is cooking, it’s great. It’s slow, but I’m still getting good tips.
I take my second order. It was supposed to go to my buddy but he forgot to tag in and when he fixed it he was like “nah man you take it, my AC is broken and it’s really hot, I don’t wanna be in my car if I don’t have to be”
I took it, wonderful group of people. They asked me how my day was going. I said “I don’t know yet, seems good! This is my first (you gotta make people feel special) delivery of the day, I’m closing!”
“Oh nice! Good luck with that man!”
I wish I could have truly understood how much luck I needed today.
8:30 is the time. It’s slow enough that my manager sends the last driver that isn’t me home. I’m expecting to get a few deliveries, but nothing amazing. So there’s a double on the screen. Pretty easy. 60 minute wait, easy money.
It’s about 9:00. Another double. As I’m walking out a third order pops up, so I figure I’ll come back, take that guy, and be done.
why the fuck don’t people give me gate codes
Somehow in the time it took me to take those deliveries, a total of 8 orders popped into the computer. And not a clean 8 orders either, these were all over the map and wouldn’t be something I could take in one go without some shit sitting in my car for hours.
I look at my manager. I look slightly downward because she’s very short.
She looks up at me, with a look of genuine anger in her eyes. Not anger at me, anger at the world. I would learn later that she had just read a text from my GM, with the words
“lol it happens”
She asks me to help out with the front. Me, being the customer maniac that I am, decide to do that and completely ignore the orders that were waiting. Besides, our wait time gave us some leeway on when the pizzas could get there. This turned out to be one of the best decisions I made in the night.
There is a constant stream of people entering, all wanting various pizza products. I genuinely have no fucking clue why this is happening. There’s no parties, no events, no reason to be out in the middle of Smallsville at 10:00 PM. We’re next to a… i don’t know what to call it but it’s essentially like 30 alienware computers and you pay $4 an hour to use the computers and they have like a shitton of games on them. Maybe there’s some gaming thing? idk, my girlfriend is the gamer, I mostly just play when I can.
So I’m taking these peoples orders, hamming it up because I am a fully roasted ham, giving out the pizzas with very little issues, until I get to about the fifth person in line.
It’s an older woman. I look at the screen. Every name is for a guy, but who knows.
“How do you get to [city that’s an hour away]” she says
I’m awestruck. I’ve gotten a few people asking for directions before. Usually it was to point people towards the nearest grocery store, or I think one time I told someone how to get to the race track.
So I give her my best pizza hut customer maniac answer.
“Yeah it’s like an hour away”
Crisis not averted.
“Well how do I get there.”
Some people would have, at this point, said “I don’t know” or “It’s really far” or “Ma'am we have 8 fucking orders and there’s South American Sasuke Uchicha standing behind you in line, I don’t have time for this shit”
But I am a fucking dumbass.
“Oh, okay, let me look it up for you!” I say as I pull out my phone. Directions to [city] yadda yadda it’s really fucking far. The hallmark of our location though is that it’s right by the onramp to a major freeway, This freeway leads to 2 other major freeways almost instantly, so it’s fantastic to get pretty much anywhere. So I kinda lead her in the general direction.
“So how do I get there”
“Oh! You just take the Z-69 South!”
It’s pretty easy to get to. Like, you literally get out of the parking lot, make a right, and follow the sign for about 30 seconds before it says “Z-69 SOUTH!!!!!!! WOOHOO!!!!!”
I’m not going to spend a lot of time explaining how this conversation went but imagine it like the video where people are trying to convince this guy to leave his car during a flood and he’s just confused and dazed and is doing stupid shit.
This eventually lead me to walk out of the store with her (aka. My clever plan to get her the fuck out of there), and recite this phrase.
“OKAY. SO. fingers pointed with directional customer service passion YOU GO CHOO CHOO OUT OF THE PARKING LOT points to the streelight YOU GO RIGHT HERE. VROOM VROOM. YOU SEE TWO STREET LIGHTS. BING. BONG. pointing to the visible street lights as I bing and bong AND THEN YOU GET ON THE FREEWAY.”
“… so I make a left?”
Somehow I managed to get her on her way. (read: I said “I wrote everything down, hope you find your way” and ran back inside). I look at Mexican-American Danny Zuko and tell him
“Pardon my french, but what the fuck was that shit”
I think maybe 5 minutes had passed. He just wanted his 8 piece of bone-out wings. Luckily he was chill, and the rest of the customers went fine.
Then I remembered “wait a second im the closing fucking driver”
After essentially shit-talking out GM for a minute, we figured it was time to rip the band-aid off and deliver some very late pizzas. Luckily enough only 1 pizza ended up being dispatched late since we bumped up our delivery time to 120.
I found out that this would work in the best way. I’d take 3 that were below us, driver back to the store, and take the 4 that were above us, and then come back and take the 1 that was in the gates of hell that we honestly shouldn’t deliver to.
So I take the three first. Nothing noteworthy, except that I hate trailer parks because the only labeling they have is black lettering with no light, but meh.
I get back and get ready to take the other four. Help out a few carryout customers first, good stuff, no crazy wanderers walking around, got a $1 tip, good shit.
There’s a phone call. Generally during these times, my favorite manager would employ a strategy called “fuck it they can fucking wait we’re busy as shit”
This is not my favorite manager.
So I answer the phone. It’s someone who sounds like their mouth is filled with the Chinese knock-off version of George Washington’s Teeth, talking about how the call center transferred them to us because we had a 120 minute wait.
So I informed her “yes that is a a thing”
“so can you still deliver the pizza”
I look at my manager. My manager shakes her head no, knowing what I’m gonna ask.
“no. We can do carryout though”
“I need your order”
The order proceeds as normal, and I tell her “if you want your pizza you gotta get here before 11”
“Oh I’m already on my way”
Not having the time to contemplate why she decided to ask for delivery when she’s driving straight to our store, I hung up and got the four orders to take around the top part of our delivery area. It’s not the CLEANEST run (Imagine the literal Northwest and Northeast corners of our delivery area.) but it’s the best I can do.
People must be feeling the power of Jesus Christ or something because even as I showed up 20 minutes late, I still got hefty tips. It was fantastic. Plus 3 of the 4 orders were cash, so it consisted of “Here you go, keep the change, bye”
The fourth one was the last one I took.
I pull up to the house and someone’s pulling in the driveway. completely unrelated, they’re like “yeah someone else ordered it.”
A child answers the door. Fuck. The child gets the receipt and single pizza and runs inside. There’s a little puppy at the door so I say some weird ass white people shit to him while also making sure he doesn’t run away.
This went on for about 3 minutes as I peek inside and see what’s going on. It’s going around some more with just kind of normal household chatter until I hear.
“Wait, you’re not going to tip him?!”
“Dude, you gotta tip him! You always gotta tip the driver”
Thank you un-named resident of the household of order #111. I thank you for your $3 generosity (the lowest tip I got on that quad but whatever)
So I run back, fucking dying as I’d taken about 7 deliveries in the time that it takes me to do about 4.
But there’s the last order.
I zoom back, mentally preparing for the 30 minute trek round trip there. I whimper, I cry, I sob.
“Oh yeah I cancelled it lol”
That day, this manager became my favorite.
All I had to do cleaning-wise was mop (aka: wipe the dirty spots because we’re both tired as shit and we can do a deep cleaning mop tomorrow), and then I was out only an hour after closing.
I made $102.69