Fucking Pizza Delivery

Alright, I’m gonna vent to you motherfuckers.

First off we recently hired some dude named Michael who used to work for our store off and on. I don’t like the dude. There’s just something now right about the guy. 

So all day, homeboy was bugging me and pestering me with questions that he should fucking know since he’s driven for years, so fuck that guy.

Secondly, on Thursday, I’m going to Bloomington for three days to visit my best friends, so I pretty much don’t have patience for any of this shit.

Third, this fucking bitch comes in the store and walks right up to me while I’m in the middle of taking some dude’s order and goes “Excuse me, but it’s really important that I go first” and starts ordering. HAHAHA, NICE TRY, BITCH! I shoot her a cold glance and tell her that if she wants to pull that crap, she should go to Papa John’s. She tells me that it’s more important that she gets her food first and I just say “Not in my store, get to the back or get out.” I received a bit of applause for that from the black dudes sitting down. Fuck that shit.

No one tipped, everyone ordered, it was awful. People were being so difficult, I had three orders to a factory where they ordered timed orders and told me to be there 10 minutes before their break, so I just sat there reading pamphlets and holding my dick for 10 minutes only to get stiffed by members of the nigger community.

All the while, I had to watch my angel of an ex, who I’m still highly in love with, flirt via Twitter with an obese man child who embodies every hallmark praised by the bro community. Right down to the douche beard and tattoo of a skull on his arm. Did I mention on Facebook his nickname is “Buster Highman?” Yeah… I lost to that.

Not a great day. But I’ve got Burger King and gin cigarettes and beer and internet. WHO THE FUCK IS WITH ME???

Depending on who’s working tomorrow and how busy we are, I’m going to make a hip hop video at work and put it on here. It’s gonna be radical. 

I am just about 98% sure I delivered to Aubrey Plaza right now. And that 2% is just disbelief that she’d be in my town. She looked, spoke, sounded like, dressed JUST like Aubrey Plaza. I need that girl.

So, I’m sure it seems to my readers that I have an anger problem due to my writing style. I assure you that this isn’t the case. I do not have an anger problem. I have a flair and enjoyment of venting in the form of an angry story. Not counting the way I treat truly awful customers and fellow employees, I’m a warm, fun, easy going, professional guy. I like it when things go smoothly, I just like recounting the times things DIDN’T go smoothly more. But sugar, you bet your bottom dollar that there was a time when I spoke and acted like this to everyone.

Okay. Stories from my past. 

So, I’m sure I mentioned this, but for two and a half years, I was a driver for Pizza Hut. My early memories of that job are warm and fuzzy. The establishment trained me in a patient, professional and ethically motivated environment. That was the first two years. The last 8 months are a different story. 

I don’t believe this for a second, but the story goes that my GM, Mary, got caught stealing from the till. I refuse that. It didn’t happen. But that’s beside the point. We ended up with Josh. A man who had never been more than an assistant manager, self conscious about his obesity and had something to prove. Not exactly my kind of guy.

I’ll be telling a lot of Josh stories if Domino’s keeps on being all boring, but I’m going to give you a condensed description of him and then jump to my last two weeks. My last two weeks as a wild, 19 year old pot head with a lip and rebellious streak.

Josh was mean. That’s all there was to it. He wanted to radically shake the way our store worked, but he never tried being constructive about it. He did everything he could to lose my respect. He yelled mercilessly at a dude I liked who had just been hired and had a standing up for himself problem. He made the poor kid cry and I had to cheer him up over a cigarette. He routinely made things overly difficult and didn’t listen to my suggestions and pointing out there was an easier way (to this day, I think my early interactions with Josh were professional and reasoned). He just kept drudging on and dictated everything. He called me a bad driver and told me I was fat. I was an obese child/early teen. At the time he called me fat, I had lost 100 lbs since my prime weight, but I was still a bit overweight. You do NOT call a formerly obese person fat. I don’t care if it’s not meant in a mean way, if it’s a joke or I don’t fucking care what else. I promise you that it is the most self conscious thing about that person and YOU DON’T CROSS THAT FUCKING LINE!

So whatever, me and the waitress I had a huge crush on and is to this day the only girl that’s ever turned me down for a date (bitch) kind of ringled our little circle of malcontents and formed a suicide pact. A week from today, the eight of us are going to put in our two weeks on the same day. HAHA, TAKE THAT, DICK! So we did. I had since been hired at Domino’s (on the spot, because it took me 3 seconds before my gm there and I were best friends) and I didn’t give A FUCK!

I’ll share Carries rebellions later, because I’m thinking some people are going to see the size of this post and just ignore it. But the two of us took it upon ourselves to cause as much trouble as we possibly could.

I figured no one would cause any trouble until I did. And taking that role, I also knew I had to cause the MOST trouble and then I would be the leader and others would follow at their own speed. (I really do think like this) So I figured I would start all of our last two weeks off with a bang. After the last person put in their two weeks, which was enough to have Josh rip his hair out, I took the dish boy aside.

I could easily write 8 full length posts on Morton, the dish guy, but I’m keeping it short since it isn’t important yet. He’s short, he’s in his 40’s, there is NO mental problem with him, he is a river troll. He can’t spell anything but his name correctly, he fucked up every order he took for the first four months he worked there (we gave him a free pizza for his first correctly taken order) he had a deep, gravelly, wobbly, choppy voice (I can mimic it pretty well, but it’s a bitch to describe). He messes up literally every thing he does. He’s literally everyone’s favorite, and not because of meanness, we actually just had affection for the little guy.

So I take Morton aside and tell him Josh wants him to go to the side of the store with the oven and dump a trash bag on the floor. The other dish guy starts laughing, but he quickly stops after I shoot him an angry look. Morton doesn’t believe me, but it seriously takes me three minutes to convince him and he does. HE ACTUALLY DID IT! Josh knew it was me because a co worker saw me and Carrie post on Facebook about all the stuff we were gonna do. He comes running towards me and as soon as he gets close, me and the dish guy crack up. 

I routinely hung up on difficult customers or just yelled at them and Josh started hovering over my shoulder when I was on the phone. One time a customer wanted us to take a delivery outside of our area and Josh was listening. After explaining it was outside of our area, the customer started demanding I deliver it anyway. After about 3 minutes of professional refusal of his order, I told him “I’m sorry, but you’re not using the right tone for asking me a favor.” Josh grabbed the phone from me and was yelled at for half an hour. Ha.

I did a bunch of other shit, like move important papers around or changing the password to the computer to “JOSH SUCKS DICKZ LOL!” and all that stuff. And Carrie was performing admirably. I’m proud of the chaos she wreaked, because she’s a goodie two shoes and was just wanting to be a part of this little cult I formed. Her and I RAN that shit. We were giving food for free away left and right, charging dicks more than we should have, messing up orders. There was a lot of yelling involved in my last two weeks.

My last day, I went all out. I did everything  from what I mentioned above to telling a customer to her face that she was a cunt. I told a little girl Santa wasn’t real and I just started breaking plates whenever I got bored. After awhile of this, Josh asked me to cheese a pizza that he was making, but he had to go answer a phone call that needed a manager, I told him sure, but I felt a sneeze coming on. So as he hands me the pizza, I sneeze on it in the most grandiose way I can possibly muster. He gets red in the face, tired of all my shit, and screams at me to go home. I change my uniform into my normal clothes in full display of everyone the store and take a lap of the entire non dining area of the store with both hands stretched up to the sky, flipping the bird. Carrie just beamed and hugged me, if I was all comfortable back then with girls as I am now, I would have just grabbed her and kissed her. I still rankle with the idea that no one has ever turned me down but her. 

Every once in awhile, I’ll go in and get dine in just to scare them.

Nat is counting my tips right now. After I get home, I’ve got a great for you guys. Since I haven’t been able to wrangle up any stores that are more than decent, I’m going to go back in time to my early days as a driver. The days when I had anger issues and an archenemy

So Bones decided he could trust me and he came to me with a problem of his. He has committed a felony and lied about it on his application. And apparently, he bounced a check to Domino’s a few months ago. He asked if Domino’s would find out he lied. THEY FUCKING WILL NOW, BONES, YOU IDIOT! CAUSE I’M TELLLLLLLLIIIIIINNNNNNG!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I watch an inordinate amount of Delivery Driver Porn when I’m bored. 

Yo, these fucking dumbass kids got cancer! BAHAHAHA! What IDIOTS!!!

Yo, these fucking dumbass kids got cancer! BAHAHAHA! What IDIOTS!!!

Yo, bitches. Call your local Domino’s and tell them this blog says “Keep the faith, brothers.” Or some other random ass shit.

Customer of the Year Part 2

I haven’t hit you guys with anything in awhile. I’m sorry, I just can’t seem to make a story out of anything that’s happened lately. Sometimes, customers and co workers are just on form for a period of time. Honestly, that makes my life easier, but it makes for shitty blog posts. So I’m gonna lay another Smith Pat story from the past.

Now, I remember dropping a hint about the time I took a girl on a delivery to Smith Pat, but I don’t remember what fake name I used, so she’s Sarah now. 

I’d know Sarah for a couple of years now. I met her in Senior year, she was a year younger than me. It was always pleasant to run into her and shit, but it was just kind of cordial pleasantries and shit. Then, sometime this summer, I ran into her somewhere and we started hanging out for real. Had her over, went to campus, longboarded, all the usual shenanigans. 

During one of our conversations, I got talking about work and described Smith Pat. Her expression was one of amazement and a bit of disbelief. So I told her next time he ordered, I’d call her and we could meet at the Wendy’s by his apartment and she could just tag along. I was pretty damn excited to share the horror (wonder) of Smith Pat to a non co worker. 

So we planned that she would keep some sexy outfit in her car at all times just in case Smith Pat struck while she was out and about and could change into a jaw dropper for the bat shit, insane man we were going to visit.

So sure enough, within a week, Smith Pat calls and I get to take the order. I immediately call Sarah and have her meet me at Wendy’s. She changes in the bathroom and comes out in a small black dress. Fucking perfect. This bird is going to give our Customer of the Year (a title I just made up and started putting on his boxes one day) a freaking heart attack.

She had been given the description. Crazy eyes, obese, Where’s Waldo? hat and a Cosby sweater and midnight black teeth. But no… that would not do. This man would not allow expectations to be met. If he suggests that we are getting complacent with his appearance or that we can forecast his attire, then he must surprise us.

So the first thing Sarah says as we enter the apartment building is how filthy it is. Yup. It’s like there was a rat orgie and Shrek was jerking off to it in the corner and after everyone went home, a Muk slipped and fell in the sweaty, cummy mess. It’s not even just like that in Smith Pat’s building, it’s the whole neighborhood. 

So I knock on his apartment and he answers the door. In all his glory, he presents himself In boxer briefs. With no shirt. With half his hair gone. Like… right down the middle. The right half of his head had hair and the left did not. Instead of the usual beckoning closer to the dirty cereal bowl that he normally has placed the money into, he charges at us and stops one inch from my face and I see the money clenched in his fist.

I lost it. I’m a professional when it comes to customers. I never mock them to their face, I’m pleasant and helpful, even if two seconds later, I’m cursing them under my breath. But I fucking LOST it. In the middle of saying “That’ll be 12.56,” I just slip up and crack up. I picked myself back up after three seconds and forced myself not to laugh, which was damn impressive. This fucking man is basically in the nude. Right after I became accustomed to his strange attire. He hands me the money, flashes his smile the color of Satan’s heart and wishes me a good night. 

He never even looked at Sarah in her sexy dress, on full blown model mode for him. As we were leaving, we were cracking up and all she could say was, in a slightly hurt voice, “His boobs were bigger than mine!” 

That’s our Customer of the Year. 

samfrkl-deactivated20120512 asked: yea tumblr is really stupid like that. you can't follow, ask, like, etc with anything but your main blog. by the way would you mind sharing your main blog?

That’s fucking cocks, man. My main isn’t anything special, just something I update every once in awhile to make it seem like hitting creepily on cute Tumblr bitches isn’t the ONLY thing I do. But knock yourself out


Hey, you’re the internet, help me out. I can’t follow people with Fucking Pizza Delivery, I can only follow people with my personal blog. Someone use witchcraft and tell me how to change that. I’ve got people I want to follow from here, but not from my other blog. Mostly my more awesome followers, but I also want to start rivalries with other pizza blogs and shit. 

Today i my first day off in a week and a half. I forgot what you’re supposed to do on days off. It’s snowy and cold and evil outside. Who wants to come over and get food delivered non stop, get hammered, watch things on Netflix and mutually masturbate for about 7 hours? While masturbating, we can listen to Frank Ocean and eat hot wings from some pizza place. 

It’s fucking snowing today. I hate being a driver in winter. I fucking can’t stand it. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world. For real, I get mad anxiety attacks in the winter at work. Super not fun.

Anyway, I promised I’d tell you about our new hire. Dude walks in, 250-260 lbs, mid thirties, with a mid twenties douchebag beard, wearing a t shirt TURNED wife beater, because regular wife beaters aren’t trashy enough, shirt has a guy smiling saying “Sarcasm…one of the many services I offer!” the wife beater itself is incredibly dirty. It looks like he washes it in a pile of dirt in between wears. Not joking, this thing is filthy. Regular black pants. And a tattoo of a skull on fire that looks like a five year old immate did it with a BIC pen.

This was the attire he chose for his fucking interview! He comes in and you could hear Cam and my buttholes clench up in fear. He asked for Miguel and we instantly assume he’s going to fix something that has something to do with pipes. Since our area manager has been going full douche lately, he says we need more drivers, even though we actually have the perfect amount. So Miguel hires this guy on the spot. WHAT THE FUCK MIGUEL???

So yeah, that’s Bones…our resident Hell’s Angel. He hasn’t shown any personality to speak of or any interesting traits to blog about in the two shifts I’ve worked with him. All I know is that he has a girlfriend that works at Long John Silvers and smokes. Ugh. I want him out.

I’ve had three runs so far. It’s 10:23, I got in to work at 6. Fuck this. Pam and I are just sitting around talking about sex and I don’t have anyone to fuck anymore, but I’m mad horny now. Fuck everything about this shift.