They see us in the middle of the night, at the crack of dawn, and every time in between. They get a glimpse into our houses, our friends, and our lifestyles. More importantly, they see some seriously bizarre stuff. Pizza delivery guys are the unsung heroes of the world, and they’re here to spill the beans on their most bonkers delivery stories.
1. Champion Of The World
So I’m working as the pizza maker at a tiny independent pizza shop in New Orleans. The delivery driver is a 6’6″ Lithuanian basketball player who’s supposed to be on a basketball scholarship, but has some troubles with the NCAA over a few exhibition games he may have gotten paid for. So instead, he’s delivering pizza in a clapped-out ghetto sled instead of going to college.
We send him out on a run for three nearby deliveries, and after about 30 minutes of him being out, the customer from the third house calls to complain that their pizza hasn’t arrived yet. So I call the first house and they’re like “pizza came just fine.” I call the second house and they say their pizza just arrived, so I figure he’s had car problems and I’ll go find him.
So I drive over to the second house and follow the logical route toward the third. As I’m almost there, I see this giant man running at a full sprint down the middle of the road with the pizza bag held up over his shoulder like a waiter. I pulled up beside him and without stopping he yelled, “Must deliver pizza,” turned the corner, and ran up to the customer’s house.
When he got done, I found out the entire amazing story. His car had actually failed to start at the very first house, and he decided to run about three miles with several pizzas rather than screw around looking for a phone. Best delivery driver we ever had by far.
2. Dance Monkey Dance
I’ve been a pizza delivery driver for several years, and today is the first day I legitimately feel ashamed of doing what I do. This story may not seem to be a huge deal to some people, since it’s probably more of me being socially inept when it comes to a big audience and being recorded and not being comfortable with my singing voice. So I may be overreacting, but I can’t shake this feeling of humiliation.
Since I was a kid, I’ve always been pretty shy. Even among close friends I’m somewhat quiet, and I am absolutely terrible at speaking in front of large crowds. I remember in high school having nightmares for weeks about having to do an upcoming presentation, and I would be dreading doing it every day until the day of. Not only that, but I’m a terrible singer, and I know it.
I don’t even feel comfortable singing in front of friends and family. Which brings me to the actual story. I had a delivery today with a note written in the “special instructions” section that said, “Sing a Christmas carol for a tip.” I didn’t really take it all that seriously, and figured they were just joking. And if they weren’t, I thought of a corny line to say while driving there to hopefully satisfy them if they were serious.
So I show up and it’s some kind of small party going on. There’s probably roughly 10-15 teenagers gathered around in the living room and the mom comes to the door and takes the pizzas (there were six larges) as I give her the receipt to sign. She then looks at me with a smile and goes, “So did they tell you?!? Me: “Haha, oh the note? Yeah I saw that, but trust me, you don’t want to hear me sing.”
Her: “Oh come on, you have to!” She then ushers me inside and closes the door behind me. All of the people there are watching me and already have their phones out recording me. I instantly get uncomfortable and want to leave as quickly as possible. An audience is one thing, but being recorded by multiple people will instantly make me feel anxious. It all went downhill from here.
Her: “Well go on, sing!” Me: “No really, I’m a terrible singer. I’m sure I will ruin your Christmas!” By the way, Christmas is still several weeks away, I have no idea why they wanted a Christmas carol so badly. Her: “OH COME ON. I’ll make it worth your while.” She said this as she waved a 20 and a 5 in front of me. I continued to insist on being a terrible singer and not being comfortable with it, but she kept pushing.
Eventually I decided to try my corny line and hoped it would satisfy them. So I just said, “Okay, how about, rub-a-dub-dub I brought you some grub!” Which was corny as heck and SO cringey to say and made me feel infinitely more uncomfortable. Obviously, no one laughed, and she went, “No, it has to be a Christmas carol!” I insisted more about not wanting to sing and was starting to get seriously annoyed and uncomfortable that she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
She kept waving the money in front of my face to “encourage” me, so finally I just said, “Look, I’m sorry but I’m not going to sing for money.” She looked at me incredulously for a second and went “Woooooooooowwwww. It was only for fun you know. Well, you’re definitely not getting this then,” she said as she pulled the 20 away and only gave me the 5 and the receipt she had signed.
I said thank you and quickly left, while I heard several comments behind me from everyone else like: “Wow, is he serious? What a jerk,” “Ugh, gross,” “Wow, did he really have to make us feel so bad?” So yeah. It’s just being pressured to sing which I guess should just be fun, but I’ve never felt so used and humiliated while working here.
I legitimately feel ashamed to be working a minimum wage job now, and truly feel like I’m on the lowest rung of the ladder in society. I was just a tool for their entertainment that they thought would jump at the chance to make a fool of myself for an extra 20 bucks. I’m a pizza delivery driver, not a freaking performer or a circus monkey.
3. Old Soul
Usually when kids answer the door for pizza it sucks because their parents don’t tell them to tip or how to tip on a receipt. Well, a little boy answered the door for a delivery I took the other day. He was really young, like seven or eight, and he had on a bright red shirt with a dinosaur and everything. He proceeds to hand me an extra five and says, “Keep the change” and when I say thank you he waves it off.
I hand him his pizzas and he inhales like he’s smelling them and says, “This is going to be great after the day I had.”
4. Pride And Prejudice
I delivered pizzas for a chain when I was 19. I didn’t have a cell phone at the time, but this event spurred me to get one. I was a day driver mostly, and I was working for probably a couple months at the time. I get a delivery for a street that apparently has a lot of bad stuff going on around it. One of my managers instructed me to only carry $15 in change, and to call 9-1-1 if I needed to.
I reminded him that I didn’t have a cell phone. His response was ridiculous. He said “That’s okay, just scream ‘9-1-1!’” So now that I was nervous, I set out for my destination. I get out, lock my car, and deliver the pizza with no problem. Breathe a sigh of relief, go to open my car and…I locked my keys in my car. Some of the neighbors were out playing basketball in the street and saw me.
One of them lent me a cell to call the shop. The one manager that could help me had driven into work on his motorcycle, so he had to drive home and get his truck and tools. When he asked me where I was, his response was something like, “God, there of all places?!” So yeah, instilling more confidence in me. But in actuality, the people on the street were very kind.
Various conversations ensued like, “How good is your insurance? We could just break a window.” And, “Hey man, couldn’t you break into it for her?” “Naw man, it’s been years since I’ve broken into cars.” I didn’t want to pay for damages to my car, because I didn’t know what the insurance on the car was. So they just kept me company for the couple hours it took for my manager to arrive with tools to open my car.
I drove back to the shop to clock out for the day. Any time I drove through that area after the incident, the locals waved at me. It’s one of my favorite memories from that time.
5. Mom’s Little Helper
So I’ve been delivering close to a year now, had no hiccups so far until this happened. I got a delivery to a familiar house, nice and easy drive. I got to the door and heard the mom yell out, “I’ll be just a minute.” Anyway, I’m greeted with the face of a six-year-old when the door opens, no mom in sight. Now, I don’t really care about kids answering the door in regards to tips, as in Australia we don’t have a tipping culture and don’t rely on tips.
I tell the little girl it was $18 all up, and she looks at me puzzled and hands a $50, saying, “Is this enough?” Of course, I’m not going to take from a little kid, so I carefully count back her change to the exact cent. I think it’s going smoothly. How wrong I was. I attempt to give her the pizza, and she is obviously struggling to hold the box.
I hesitate and say, “I think it would be best if you got your mom to carry it just in case.” However, she shakes her head and said her mom said she had to carry it back. This annoyed me a bit, since I don’t want to be blamed if she drops the pizza. The little girl gets a good grip of the pizza and walks down the hallway as I’m closing the door.
Just as I was about to close the door, the little girl drops the pizza, topping side down, all over the floor. At this point, I’ve shut the door fully and can see a bit of the action through the glass pane next to the door. The little kid is trying to scrape all the toppings into the box, and failing horrendously. I’m in an awkward position as I’m just standing there at the door, helpless.
I wait there for another good two-three minutes waiting at the door to see if her mom came to rectify the situation with me. I was prepared to talk it over with her and see if she wanted a new one, however all I could hear was the mom scolding her daughter about the mess she made. At that point, I was actually angry. The little girl must have felt so embarrassed about the situation, and the mom didn’t have the decency to help her struggling kid with the pizza.
As I went to my car, which was a good 20 meters away, I could still hear the mom yelling. I got back to the store and told my manager what happened just to cover my butt if the mom phoned up and tried to blame anything on me. Fortunately, we didn’t hear from her. Throughout the whole shift, I felt awful about the situation and felt sorry for the girl. I knew what I had to do.
At the end of our shift, we get to make and take home a pizza for free. I decided to make the same pizza as the one that the little girl dropped and drop it off on my way home to their house. This wasn’t because I felt bad for the mom, who probably had to cook her own dinner, but I felt as if it would take the stress off the little girl. So I went back to their house, pizza in hand and some ice cream for the kid.
I explain to the mom that I saw what happened and decided to tell her how little kids shouldn’t answer the door, as money can be easily taken and food easily dropped. I say that in the future she should at least watch her child when answering the doors for deliveries at the very least. She ended up apologizing profusely and thanking me for my troubles. The mom has answered the door ever since.
6. The Stork Has Arrived
I can’t believe this story really happened so if you don’t either, then I understand. Today I delivered to a Motel 6. In general, 4 out of 5 people at Motel 6 don’t tip, so I wasn’t expecting much. The guy answers the door and I hand him his pizza. As he’s signing the credit card slip, I notice his pet cat. I love animals, so I always get really extra and I say, “Oh my god, your cat is so adorable.”
He opens the door a little wider and points to the corner…where there was a full litter of about 10-15 kittens. He says, “Do you want one?” At this point, I’m kind of shocked. I ask if he’s being serious and he says yes and tells me to go grab one. I picked one up and he says, “That can be your tip!” and hands me back the slip (which did indeed have a nice little 0). So now I’m the owner of a four-week-old kitten named Tipsy.
7. Mission Accomplished
This notorious stiffer lives in a nice gated apartment complex. She either writes a line through the credit card receipt tip line or, on cash order, will give us $28 on a $27.XX order. She always writes instructions on the receipt to call her when at the gate so she can buzz us in and meet us outside her door when we get to her unit. Sometimes she won’t answer her phone and we wait at the gate entrance for 5-10 minutes before she buzzes us in.
Well, this last time she ordered $57.84 worth of food, cash. I get to the gate and was able to piggyback behind another car, then drive to her apartment unit. I put $0.16 in my pocket cause I knew she was going to give me $58. I knock on her door and somebody else answers, one of her several guests. Nice guy told me to come inside and put the five pizzas on the table, then offered me a drink.
This was during an NFL game because maybe 12 or 13 people were there, most of them wearing jerseys. I spot the stiffer girl at the table. She gets up and starts escorting me out the door, then gives me the money. I count it before stepping outside…and of course, it’s just $58. So I get the coins from my pocket and give it to her, saying, “Here’s your 16 cents change.”
I say it loud enough so everyone inside can hear, then I step outside and leave. Ha, cheapskate! But she bit back. I just finished reading a negative review that she wrote online about us. It was written on the same day as the NFL game, and I noticed it was her by the avatar Facebook picture. She says we always get the toppings wrong and take forever to deliver her food, which is completely false.
Why would she keep ordering from us for the past year? I guess I made her angry. Mission Accomplished!
8. For Love Nor Money
Greg. Freaking Greg. So I work at Pizza Hut as a delivery driver, and we have this one customer who everyone hates to go to because he always pays in exact change. No tip. Ever. If the driver doesn’t have the change he wants, he will call the store and demand the driver brings him back his 50¢. He has done this multiple times. Let me also mention that Greg is very well off.
He lives in a half-million-dollar house and drives a $50,000 truck. This happened during a blizzard. Of course. And Greg orders a pizza. Nothing special, but his total was $15.11 and I draw the short straw and have to take it to him. There is about three inches or so of snow and it’s still snowing. I get to his house and ring the bell. At this point, I take his pizza out of the insulated bag.
I wanted it to get cold, but everything turned out so much better than I had anticipated. He takes forever to get to the door. When he finally gets there, he hands me $13 in cash and a handful of change. In the process, he drops a dime. I count everything up and I have $15.01. 10¢ short. At first, he asks if I can just cover it for him. I say “No, I am not going to pay 10¢ out of my pocket for your pizza.”
If it were any other customer, I probably would have. It’s only 10¢. But not for Greg. He starts blaming me for dropping the dime. (He dropped it). Again, I say no and that he will have to find the dime or get another. At this point, the pizza is already getting cold. It was well below freezing out there. He starts kicking around the snow on his porch looking for the dime.
I spotted the dime right away but kept quiet. All the while, he is muttering about how I dropped it and I should pay for it. I’m trying my best to hide my grin. About 3-5 minutes later, I’m starting to get cold and the pizza might as well have just came out of the fridge. I tell him I am timed on these orders (I am) and that he should go inside and get money.
He, of course, claims he has no more money and starts his sob story about him not having money. So I give him back his money and leave. I told him that if he finds his dime to just call the store and we will bring him his pizza. I know he has money, so I just pull around the corner and call the store to tell my manager what happened.
During the call, Greg calls the store saying he has his money. I get back to the house, pull the pizza out again, and go back to his door. He hands me all the money and I make sure to count it, slowly. It’s all there. I ask him if he found it in the snow and he said, “No, I just got it from the house.” He got cold pizza and I got paid. He hasn’t ordered since. Freaking Greg.
9. The Good Samaritan
I’ve been delivering for about three weeks now, and tips are either really bad or pretty good. I go to the door and a kid answers, and his mom is in the back. I tell him his total and I’m pretty sure he was just happy to pay for something because, without hesitation, he hands me a $100 bill, claps, and runs to his mom to tell her he paid and runs back.
I don’t notice it is $100 and thought it was $10, so I walk back to my car. Then I see the bill he gave me has that blue line and a gold 100 on it. At that point, I got really happy, but realized that I felt guilty if I left. I go back and the mom answers and looks really confused. I show her the bill and said the little boy gave it to me. She called his name and he said he got it from her purse.
She told me she was so glad that I gave it back and that it was supposed to be for their groceries that week. In the end, I got a $3 tip, but at that point I didn’t mind since I just saved a family from going hungry for a couple days.
10. Too Fast, Too Furious
It was a super busy Saturday last night but we were holding our own. A delivery comes up, so I run it out. I get to the woman’s house about 25 minutes after she ordered and she is UPSET! She says she was quoted 45 minutes for delivery, and I tell her that’s the window. She’s all mad at me because now I’ve ruined her evening because she planned for 45 minutes…?
She goes on and on. I’m standing in the rain and snow while she’s complaining. I tell her to call the store and tell the general manager. The last words out of her mouth were: “I’m not about to tip when you can’t control your service” and she slams the door in my face. Thanks you old hag, next time I’ll forget to close the bag flap so you can have cold early pizza.
11. No Good Deed Goes Unnoticed
So today I took a really funny order. At first I thought it was a prank order. The delivery remarks said: “I want my pizza BONELESS!” When I get to the door, a good-humored-looking 15-year-old answers and I say, “Sorry all of our pizzas have bones, it turns out that the Better Ingredients were people all along.” He laughs, I read him his order and his total ($26.30) and he hands me the money.
I hand him the pizza and ask if he needs any change and he flippantly waves and says, “No it’s a tip, keep it.” When I’m walking away, I realize the kid gave me 60 freaking dollars. Since the kid’s parents are home and I don’t want him to get in trouble, I turn around and knock again. This time an older guy (the dad) answers. “Hey, normally I would never turn down a tip but he gave me at least twice what the pizza cost.”
Holding up the three $20s, I told him I couldn’t in good conscience take a 120% tip without questioning if it was an accident. He took back one of the $20s and was basically in awe that I was so honest. He asked my name, shook my hand, and gave me an extra $5, making the final tip $19 plus a customer for life.
12. Hugs All-Around
It was a seven-mile delivery, the order was $37.36, and they gave me a $2.64 tip. I gave the dad the food of four boxes. His hands were full, so he asked his three-year-old daughter who was with him to close the door. He walks away and I stay to make sure she can close the door. But she runs out to me and yells in her little squeaking voice, “I don’t forget to hug you!”
She hugs me, then runs back inside, closes the door, and screams “pizza!” That made up for the small $2.64 tip.
13. Baby On Board
This story sounds like it came out of a movie, but I promise it’s 100% true. I’m a delivery driver for a small carryout/delivery place in a suburb of Seattle. Our area is really weird, because although our radius is 5 miles, we have all types of neighborhoods: section 8 housing to multi-million dollar homes, urban to rural, etc. It’s a fast-growing area so it’s a total mixed bag.
Last summer, I had a delivery to an upper-middle-class area of my town. It was a regular customer, a guy who ordered from us every week while his wife was pregnant with their first kid. Same order every time, two large pizzas. Their house is new and pretty nice, but they live on a hill so the platform outside their front door is a 5-foot drop down onto their front yard, which is also concrete.
I go to deliver their pizza and the wife opens the door with a newborn no older than a week or two sitting on her arm resting against her chest. She’s clearly exhausted, and her husband is coming home from work, so he isn’t home to help her out. Her hands are full so I offer to set her pizzas down somewhere for her, but she insists that she can take them.
I hand her the food and while she’s focused on balancing the boxes on her hand, I witness a horrific sight. I see her baby lean backward and start to fall out of her arm. I reach to catch him and he slips into my breaking pizza bag feet first and lands perfectly inside of it, completely unhurt but crying. She drops the pizza and grabs him out of the bag and we just silently stare at each other for a few moments in shock.
She hands me the money she owes me and says, “Thank you” in a shaky voice and closes the door. I’m not sure if we have delivered there again since that incident, but it shook me pretty bad, to the point where I sat in my car and cried for a minute or two just out of sheer shock and speculation out of what would’ve happened if I wasn’t able to catch him.
14. Justice Is Served
This happened a few years ago. When I was 16, I got my first job working for a franchise-owned pizza place. I worked there until I was 24. When I was 19, I received the shift leader position and got a 30-cent raise. Our store was pretty slow and we only had a handful of employees there, so I understood. One day, the franchise owner comes in when I’m running my shift to tell me I would be getting a new manager.
The franchise owner gave me his personal number and said if I needed anything, to call him if the new manager had any problems. So the next day I’m working my 10 am to 12 am shift and the new manager comes in. We’ll call him Stan. We talk a little more and he asks why there isn’t an assistant manager. I let him know we probably don’t make enough to pay an assistant manager.
He said he would worry about that and he left. I jumped to the conclusion that he was going to make me the assistant. I was so, so wrong. I closed that night and had to come in at 4 pm the next day. When I did, Stan was there with a girl I’ve never seen before, and she was wearing one of our uniforms. He said it was his roommate “Wendy.”
She had never worked for a pizza place before, but she just lost her job. He hired her as the assistant manager and completely changed my schedule and severely cut my hours. Oh, and guess who had to train her? Yep. Before Stan and Wendy, I worked 10 am to 12 am four days a week, then 4 to close on two other days. Now I just had 4 pm to 12 am five days a week. No more overtime. That severely hurt me financially but I sucked it up.
This place was pretty much in my back yard and I loved my job before all this mess. The next couple of weeks are okay, except one huge thing is off. We are coming up short every night that I close. Usually, it’s no more than $10, but that’s a lot! And it was coming back on me because I’m the one who does the nightly inventory, paperwork, and deposits.
I brought the shortage problem to Stan and he told me if it kept happening, he would start taking it from my check! I had never taken a penny from this place and I felt pretty attacked. He says he wasn’t accusing me, just letting me know what he would have to do. I said fine, but every day from now on, when I close I want to do a shift change.
A shift change is basically counting down the drawers, which would help figure out where the shortages are coming from. He agrees. The very next day, I go in at 4:00 and start clocking in and all that fun stuff before Wendy leaves. I look at the order screen for the day to see how well we did for lunch (money-wise) and that’s when I notice something.
It said at 12 a customer, who just so happened to be one of my regulars, called and ordered 10 pizzas for pick up. Then it said the order was canceled. They had never canceled before, so I was concerned. Quick side note—I feel like I was being more of a manager than both of mine put together. While I was in the back office counting the drawers, Wendy was covering the front.
I pick up the phone and call the customer from earlier. I didn’t ask why he canceled, I just asked how his experience was today since we had a new manager. He said it was fine except she needed to learn how to work the credit card machine. Apparently, she told him she could only take cash. He said he left, went to the ATM, and came back and paid $80.00 in cash for the pizzas.
He said other than that, everything was fine. I asked to confirm and he said he most definitely didn’t cancel. So here’s one possibility. The credit card machine did go down and she could only accept cash, so she canceled the order in the computer until he came back and paid, and she just forgot to ring it up again. That would be harmless. But I had a darker idea.
I thought she was taking money. I knew if I went to Stan he wouldn’t do anything about it, so I called our franchise owner “Eric.” I ask his opinion and he said he thinks I’m right. So he tells me what to do. First, I wasn’t allowed to say a word about it to Stan or Wendy. He said let Wendy leave and finish out the day as usual. He said if she’s not doing it, you will come up $80.00 over at the end of the night.
If she’s stealing, we should break even. I finished counting, and we were just one dollar short. The next day is when the magic happens. I go in at 4 as usual. Wendy is there waiting for Stan to pick her up, then Eric walks in. He tells her to follow her to the office and tells me to send Stan back when he gets here. Stan comes in and asks why Eric is there.
I shrug and tell him he’s wanted in the office. Maybe 20 minutes later, Stan walks out, brushes past me, and gets in his car. Wendy comes out next and tells me she hopes I’m happy. Eric hadn’t come out of the office yet so I went back there to talk to him. He said in three weeks they took over $1,000 between them and he would have never known if it wasn’t for me.
He then says, “Oh, you’re the new assistant manager, I’m gonna give you $13.00 an hour and we will consider more after a preliminary period.” $13 an hour. I was making $8.50 before this. I stayed a few more years after this and left to do the mom thing. I actually miss it sometimes. Wendy and Stan Facebook stalked me for a couple months after, it was pretty hilarious.
I had a delivery for two 20″ pizzas and wings. The order was $55. I get to the house and the whole family was outside. The daughter stopped me and said they didn’t order and have received numerous fake orders to their house the last few days. They were real nice and wanted to find out who it was, so I gave them the name and number on the ticket and went back to the store.
I tried calling the number from a store phone but got no answer. I felt bad for the family and was a little angry this kid wasted my time, so I called from my cell and the kid answered. I told him I’m from the pizza place and he made a fake order and needed to pay. He said, “Oh god,” laughed, and hung up on me. I was angry and bored, so I tried googling his number to get a name or address but couldn’t find anything.
I decided to try and scare him. So I sent him a text saying if he doesn’t call and pay, the authorities will be at his house in a little bit. It worked. His sister called back crying and saying please don’t send an officer and that her parents will pay when they get home from work and she will make sure her brother gets in trouble. Later that day, his parents called and paid for the food.
I’m pretty sure that kid won’t make any more prank orders after this. I also got free pizza and wings out of the whole thing.
16. Father Knows Best
This happened a few hours ago. I work at a large chain of pizza restaurants. Like most places, we get a few prank calls a week from pre-teens. Usually it doesn’t bother me and I’ll go along with it because it gives me something to do when it’s slow. But being a Friday night, we were busy and I wasn’t having it. Me will be me, and K will be kid.
Me: “Hi, thanks for calling Dominos Pizza, how can I help you tonight?” K: trying but not succeeding in holding in his laughter “Hey is Mr. Wall there?” Me: “Um, no sir there is no one named that working here.” K: “What about Mrs. Wall?” Me: “Nope, none of those either.” K: “Then how is your building standing up?!” laughter from him and background.
This went on a couple more times with classics such as, “Can I place an order to your sister’s house?” And the CLASSIC “Is your refrigerator running? Then you better go get it!!!” Finally I had enough. I let the kids know I was done playing games. Me: “Alright look, it says here that your dad’s name is [dad’s name]. If you don’t stop this, I’ll give him a call and let him know what’s been going on.”
Usually, this would stop the kids. I knew it did back in my earlier days of being a dumb kid. But some people just can’t be bothered and have to push the envelope a bit too far. K: “I know you won’t. Go ahead and call him.” Oh boy, he didn’t have to ask me twice. I hang up the phone and get back to work for a little bit, knowing that the kid will be camped at the phone to answer it for the next 15 minutes or so.
I get back to work, free of prank calls from the kid. I should have left it there, having solved the problem, but hey, the customer is always right and we always give the customer what they want. After the supper rush is done, around 45 minutes to an hour later, I fulfil the request and call his dad. I’m still me, D is dad. Me: “Hello. Unfortunately, we’ve been getting a number of calls from this number. We’re really busy and it’s pushing customers away because of the wait times. Can you please have a talk with who I assume is your son and ask him to knock it off?”
D: “Oh goodness I’m so sorry. I’ll have a chat with him and his buddies.” Me: “Thank you so much and thanks for choosing Dominos!” At this point, I think the story is done. Kid will get a talking to, won’t do it again, and that’ll be the end of it. Boy was I mistaken. Around 30 minutes later, a man and a chubby kid around 12 years old come into the store.
I don’t think much of it, thinking they’re just getting a few slices for a snack. They come up to the counter and ask for me. Me: “Yes?” D: “I think my son has something to say to you.” The kid is visibly nervous. He keeps looking around the store, won’t look me in the eye. K: “I’m very sorry for calling you, I know you’re busy and it won’t happen again.”
Then to further the awkward suffering of the kid who I kind of feel bad for at this point, the dad places an order for carryout, and sits in our small eatery section where the kid has to try and avoid eye contact with me for the next 20 minutes. Left me a good tip too. At Dominos, the customer always gets what they want.
17. Every Little Bit Counts
This was from 1985, in a mid-sized American university city. Pizza employee wages then were comparable to other fast-food restaurants, and tips were not as big a factor as they are now. Almost everyone tipped a dollar or so. I got a delivery to a house on the less affluent side of our delivery area, and I was met at the door by four children, I guessed the ages 10 on down.
All beaming with anticipation of all the pizza goodness I was bringing. They paid with exact change and thanked me politely. No tip, not a big deal, and four happy kids. As fate would have it, I delivered to their house every time they ordered. I was greeted with, “Hey, it’s you!” Same four kids, and I never saw the parents. They always paid in exact change.
It quickly became clear to me that pizza was a treat for them and something they had to scrimp to afford. Just before Christmas, just before I left the pizza job to work in my field of study, I delivered to their home one last time. They met me at the door as usual. After paying, the oldest child said, “Wait a minute.” She came back with a 50-cent tip. “This is for you.”
Knowing that the family had to scrape enough for a pizza treat every couple of weeks, this was the best tip ever.
18. Meal Ticket
A customer ordered last night. It was a medium pizza with 10+ toppings, not too unusual since we’re running a half-off special this week so people order weird stuff for cheap. I made the pizza; it was the only order for the last hour, and I made it about 15 minutes before closing time. The customer calls and adds four ranch cups, ok.
Delivery was running a bit late, and the driver says they were asleep and he had to wait about five minutes. $4 tip, cool. Today I get called. The opening driver didn’t show up and my manager needs help. Okay, game face on—let’s serve those customers, baby. This customer then calls from a different number and says they got a pepperoni only. What? I pull up the order, see it’s the 10+ topping, and I call them out.
Me: “That’s impossible you only got a pepperoni, I made that pizza myself. Do you have pictures of the pizza and box?” C: “Well, I ate it all and threw it away right before I called you, but I got a pepperoni. You must have mixed up the boxes.” Me: “Yours was the only order the last hour of the night, so there’s no way that would have happened.”
C: “Well I’m gonna need a refund or I’m not ordering there ever again.” Me: “You will not receive a refund for this order since I know you’re lying, so nice try.” C: “You can’t talk to me like that, I’m a valuable customer.” Me: “No you’re not. Have a nice day though.”
19. Playing Favorites
I do pizza delivery as my second job, and I live in Australia. And, well, I work here too. So this happened last year sometime. I get a delivery for a place I haven’t been to before. I get there and knock on the door. A huge, hairy bearded man opened the door. I could smell the pot smoke as soon as he opened the door, which is not at all unusual.
When he saw that I had pizza, the grin that spread across his face, well, it was infectious. “Guys. Pizza’s here,” he called. He took the pizzas. He paid. He then asked if I had any menus. “Sorry man. But if I’m coming back past this way, I’ll drop one in.” “No stress dude. All good.” I don’t end up going past there that night. But the following week I get a delivery on the same road.
So I make sure to grab a menu. I call in there on my way back to the shop and knock on the door. After a moment, the door opens a crack and he peers out. “Ahh,” I said. “I delivered pizza here last week and I have a menu.” That grin again. He opened the door and called, “Hey guys. It’s the guy who delivered our pizzas last week. And he’s got a menu.”
As far as he was concerned, I was the greatest guy in the world. He said if I ever needed any weed to let him know. A couple of hours later, I was delivering to another place and the instructions were to go to the shed out the back. I knock on the shed door and open it. There’s some guys sitting around a table playing poker…including my new friend.
“HEY,” he says. “It’s my pizza dude.” He then gets up and gives me a huge hug. I had no choice. I had to hug him back. And it was good. He then proceeds to tell the rest of the guys how awesome I was for remembering to bring him a menu. They just smiled and nodded as if they were thinking, “Man, He’s so out of it.” Anyway, it made my night.
I’ve delivered to him a few other times, and he is always cool and friendly.
20. Take What You Can Get
There is a fancy hotel that is at the edge of our delivery zone, and tips are always really good at that place. Last night I had a big order and drove it out and stopped by the front desk to double-check the room and building. Note: This hotel is sort of a resort with lots of bungalows instead of just rooms down hallways. It’s a bit tricky to find the exact bungalow.
I am looking at the map when the “golf cart shuttle guy” comes back and tells me to just leave the pizzas and he will drop them off. This has never happened before. There are plenty of roads where I can just drive to the bungalow. The front desk guy says, “Yeah, just leave it. We will take it from here.” I just froze up and said, “Uh ok.”
As I was walking to my car, I made a furious realization. I realized the customer had already paid, but did not pre-tip on the card. Well, these two guys were obviously going to keep my tip. I called the customer and told him that the hotel was not letting me drop the pizza to him and I was sorry, but the hotel would bring it by. Then as I was about to end the call, I blurted out, “If you were going to tip, don’t give it to them. I won’t get it because they told me to go back to the store.”
We ended the call. When I got back to the shop, the manager says the customer called. “Oh god,” I thought. Maybe the customer was mad. “He said to add $10 to the credit card slip,” my manager said. I tell my manager what happened and he agreed it was weird. He decided that in the future the food would always be “handed” to the customer directly. No more hotel middleman.
21. Phoning It In
This just happened today. I got a delivery to a home for the elderly, so the address should have the physical address as well as a room number. The receipt said to “CALL WHEN ARRIVED,” which isn’t very unusual in and of itself. The order was a medium hand-tossed cheese, which is super basic, but again, not weird in and of itself.
I figured that they wanted me to call because it was past the time that the house would’ve been unlocked, and maybe they would meet me at the door. I thought this was confirmed when there was no specific room number on it. My manager texted me when I was on the way to the address that the person called again and asked to call when I arrived.
Again, I figured that I would call, we’d meet at the door, and I’d be on my way, easy. I get to the address and dial the number on the receipt. A man with a stern voice answered, speaking in a demanding tone. He said, “Listen to me. You will knock on [insert name on the receipt] door, and give them the pizza.” I told him that without the room number, I wouldn’t know where to go.
He once again repeated the phrase. He told me that he ordered it for her, and she would pay in cash (it was a cash order). I started to get red flags. This was getting sketchy. I still tried justifying it to myself, thinking that maybe it was her grandson ordering for her, as it was an old lady who maybe didn’t know how to order. It got weirder when he wanted me to keep him on the phone, but I did.
I knocked, and someone was close by, so they let me in. I asked what room so and so was in, and they told me. I went there and knocked. An older lady answered the door, looking confused. The first thing that she said was, “I didn’t order pizza.” I began to realize what was happening. He asked me to hand her my phone, so I just put it on speaker.
He started with, “I’ve been looking for you [first name, last name]. Why have you been ignoring me babe.” She was confused and started asking who this was. He told her that she knew. She once again confirmed that she had no idea who he was. He demanded that she give him her cell phone number. I shook my head no, and she said, “Why would I give you my number, when I don’t even know who this is?”
He then sneered, “I am coming for you baby. I will find you.” I hung up the phone. The number was likely blocked, as he called on private when he called our store. He then proceeded to call me five times (all with “Private Caller” as the ID) with me ignoring every single one. I finally answered and told him that if he called this number again, I would be calling the authorities.
That was the last time he called. When we were off the phone, I told the woman to contact a loved one, as well as the authorities. I told her I could blacklist her address, as she never orders from our pizza place. This is the second time a stalker scenario has happened with me driving. Yikes.
22. Hear Ye Hear Ye
So we have this guy who is one of those regulars you don’t want. Rounds DOWN change, and gets upset when we insist he pays for the entire tab. Calls and cancels about 10 minutes before the scheduled delivery time. NEVER TIPS. Oh, I got him good last night. I ended up being the “lucky” one with his order. I walk into his place of business, and they were packed.
So I walk up to this lovely non-tipper and start the handoff. The exchange went a little something like this: Me: “I have your order here, can I get you to fill out and sign this slip?” Him: grabs pen and scribbles his name. Me: “I need you to fill out all three spots, not just sign it.” Him: “Why? The original total is correct.” Me: (Rather loudly) “If you are going to stiff your driver, I’m gonna make you own it.”
This got a lot of dirty looks in his direction from not only his co-workers, but all of the customers. Let’s hope he never orders again.
23. Doesn’t Come Cheap
About a year ago, I get a 30-piece order for the local college basketball team. They always order each player some individual item, so it isn’t easy. They always want each of the players’ and coaches’ names written on the box. I took an order to them a couple weeks before that was around $300 and they stiffed me, so I wasn’t too keen to take it again.
Unfortunately, this order is too large for anyone else to take. I have a larger vehicle, so it would only take one trip. I bring them their $470 order to the arena where an aide or assistant coach tells me to bring them down three flights of stairs. I’m at the end of my shift, and it takes me four trips to get everything down there. They then ask me to help display it out and tell them whose is what, even though it has their names written on it.
I. AM. DONE. WITH. THIS. SHIFT. I’m polite and courteous because I believe in good customer service, and I don’t look at the tip line until I get back to my vehicle. Written out is $0.00. I’ve spent the last hour doing nothing but making, boxing, and delivering their order. I told my manager I would never take a delivery to them again, and they could come pick it up if they don’t want to tip for a big and highly personalized order like that.
24. Need For Speed
I was coming back from a delivery in the middle of town. This jerk in the typical brodozer truck cuts another car off and rolls halfway into an intersection on a red light. When he gets honked at, he flips the bird. I’m already annoyed as he had been riding my butt for the past few blocks. Now we were side by side. This dude is obviously aggressive, so I figure I can make him get himself in trouble.
Down the road is the restaurant I work at, and after that is a popular spot for officers to wait for speeders. The light goes green and I floor it, giving my 13-year-old Acura all she’s got. However, I do not pass the speed limit. Brodozer does not like this, and blasts past me. He then continues to go 60 in a 40 way after he’s left me in the dust.
As I pull into the Pizza Hut parking lot, sure enough, an officer was waiting as the jerk passed by. Enjoy the ticket. You earned it.
25. Close Call
This happened several years ago, and I won’t go into a ton of detail because Google exists and I don’t want to point an arrow to where it happened by saying too much. I had worked at a big pizza chain for almost a year at this point, so I was aware of a lot of the dangers of the job, but this instance really made it sink in with a terrifying chill.
A girl had been reported missing in our area under super suspicious circumstances. It was a big deal in a relatively small town where things like that don’t happen super frequently. It was all over the news, billboards were being put up, the whole shebang. We had state officers, other county officers, and federal investigators all in town to help.
A few weeks after the initial report, they announce an arrest. They had the guy, no question that he was the one who did it. When I got to work that day, someone asked me if I had seen the announcement. I hadn’t yet, so I pulled up the news article on my phone. My blood went cold. I know that name. I know that address. I know that face.
A month or so prior, I had delivered to this guy. His apartment complex was a few blocks down the road. To add to the creep factor, this dude lived in a complex with several buildings where each one had a locked door to get into the building. It’s full of young kids who are almost always ignorant and rowdy when they order and I’d had issues there before.
Due to that, I made a point to always have customers come and meet me at the main door as opposed to being buzzed in and going to their unit door. Usually, it wasn’t a huge deal, but this dude really tried to press the issue and had several excuses as to why he couldn’t come down, saying that I needed to come up. Each one was met with “company policy doesn’t allow me to do that” until he finally caved and came down.
He was less than enthused, but paid for his pizza and I went about my way. As a female, and given that this happened within a few weeks of him kidnapping and slaying the other girl, I am so immensely grateful for all the morons who caused me to stop going inside of the buildings at this complex.
26. Neighborhood Watch
I’m a delivery girl. I was going on a delivery around 9:30 pm and I pulled into the neighborhood with someone behind me. As I approach the house, I put on my hazards a little earlier because this car was driving decently close to me. I park in front of the driveway and the car stops behind me. It was already a little weird because I was parked on the “wrong” side, so they were also on the oncoming traffic side.
I thought maybe I parked in front of their driveway so I started driving away so they could pull in. Nope. They started driving too. Now I need to turn around and I don’t want to be a jerk and do a three-point turn with them behind me, so I pull into a cul-de-sac and loop around and they follow me. I’m starting to get freaked out, so I go into another long cul-de-sac.
They stopped at the “main” street when I turned in. I wait at the cul-de-sac for a minute and call my manager at the store and tell him to stay on phone with me as I think I’m being followed but am not sure yet. As soon as I see them follow me into the cul-de-sac, I immediately start driving back to the store. I’m terrified by this point.
Every red light I hit, I’m taking a right turn and then U-turning because I thought they might try to crash into me and kidnap me or something. They follow me all the way back to the store, where I park in the back and run inside. The authorities show up soon after. Turns out it was a stupid Karen who thought I was suspicious. For what???? Putting my hazards on and parking in front of a house?
I wasn’t driving badly before that either. Thanks for terrorizing me and wasting my time.
27. Give A Little Bit
I deliver to this gentleman once or twice a week at his corporate job and he has always been great with the tip. Today, he handed me $40 on top of his usual 25% tip and I broke down crying. He didn’t know what this meant to me. His generosity has made it so I can afford the gas to go see my family for Christmas. I texted him after the fact and he was so nice.
He said, “Thank you for keeping me fed this year and see you next year!” Just keeping that positive attitude has made my entire month. I can finally get to see my family after a year and get a little gift for my love of 10 years. This will not be forgotten! Thank you, corporate dude!
28. It’s The Little Things
There was this little shtick that one customer would do. She ordered from us about once a week and our store was just a revolving door so we always had new drivers. Whenever a new driver would go out to her house, she would know because she was familiar with most of us. She would always order a medium cheese and a 20 oz drink and paid with cash every time.
So she would see the new driver and take a while to count out the change to the penny. She would then give the driver exact change and say, “Oh I don’t need change back for anything. Have a great day!” The driver would turn around, dejected, and she would always say, “You forgot something!” and hold out her hand. $20 without fail.
She was one of my favorite customers whenever I was delivering.
29. Side Hustle
This story is about my husband, as he used to deliver pizza when we lived in Florida. So, one night, the pizzeria got a delivery order for a pizza with mayonnaise on the side. Weird, but okay. And it was to be delivered to a hotel room. Fine. So, he gets there, and the woman asked for him to put it on the table in the room while she got her money.
Not the first time that happened, so whatever. As soon as he put it down, the woman literally GRABBED MY HUSBAND! She started telling him how she was getting old, and she was so alone and how she just wanted a man for…you know. He turned his head just as she went in to kiss him. Instead of on the lips, she got his eye. Startled, she backed up by one step, which was enough for my husband to get away from her.
He ran to his truck, didn’t even bother buckling up, and sped back to the pizzeria. He was only out of the store less than 10 minutes. He got back and told everyone what happened, including me, since I was a waitress there. For YEARS the running joke was that she didn’t want mayonnaise, she wanted “Man-aize.” He said if ANYONE ever ordered that again, he refused to take it.
Obviously, every time I ordered a pizza for delivery, I asked for mayonnaise on the side…
30. Be Careful What You Wish For
It was a totally normal day. Average tips, usual traffic, nothing at all out of the ordinary. I’m just on autopilot, and on one of the last deliveries of the day. It’s one pizza to a regular-looking apartment maybe half a mile from the store. The guy comes to the door and he hands me the credit card slip back with just the signature, no tip.
I briefly consider asking him to “fill out the total” (I almost always do when they leave it blank) but decide to just let it slide since it was right around the corner. He says, “Hold up. Can y’all take tips?” “Uh, yeah, man. You can write it in or whatever, we get it all.” “Hold up.” He comes back and hands me a pile of bills. I see a FIFTY, a twenty, and a one. At first, I just shoot him a look like, “Nah man, you already paid, remember?”
But I can see by his face he knows what he’s doing. I straight up recoiled in horror. Not sure what made it out of my mouth, as I was literally in shock. “Whaa…???” “Seriously??” “You sure??” He reassured me he was serious. “That’s all for you, man.” I actually asked for a hug, which he graciously allowed. Got back in my car and realized it was THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-ONE DOLLARS. What the HECK??? Why do I feel GUILTY?
31. Naked Time
I’m a pizza gal in a relatively affluent neighborhood in a big city. The other day when the heat was turned up too high in America, I brought a couple of pizzas to a house. A man opens the door wearing nothing but shorts, or maybe they were swim trunks. Two little kids approximately three and five years old run up behind the man and they are as naked as the day they were born.
The man looks at me and gives a helpless shrug. “Apparently, it’s naked time.” The little kids raise their arms up and yell, “NAKED TIME!!!!”
32. Wrong Place, Right Time
So first off, I deliver sandwiches and the company I work for prides itself on accuracy and speed. Got it? Good. I work at a store right off of a university campus, which has some decent shortcuts sometimes, especially if that person lives on the other side of campus. Just a few nights ago, we got a delivery for one of these addresses, and I knew just where it was.
It was my old apartment complex! I’d be there and back in a jiffy, no questions asked. So I set off across the campus—when I realize my terrible mistake. There’s a basketball game just letting out, and the whole university is a parking lot now. I wait and I wait to inch my way across the grounds. Short of driving up on the sidewalk, there’s no way I’m turning around or getting past it, so I call into the store and let them know the situation in case Mr. Sandwich calls looking for his food.
After what seems like an eternity, I arrive at the complex. Bounding up the steps, I give the door a quick but firm knock and prepare my speech. You know, a, “Hey, sorry about your wait, apparently there’s a basketball game tonight and traffic is horrible, etc etc.” I wait a second more and the door opens. First thing I notice is the smell of weed, and the second I notice is that the guy standing in front of me is super stoned.
Like out of his mind, eyes sealed shut. I don’t mind. I hand him his food, tell him the thing, and he waves it off as no big deal and goes inside. Of course, I take a faster route back, and as I go to tap back in, I look at the address. My heart drops out of my chest. The address distinctly says 24th Ave. Where did I go? Oh yeah, 27th. Oh, heck. Must have gone on autopilot. Now this guy needs new food, and someone just got a freebie.
My manager understands but tells me to call and ask them if their driver has arrived, and then tell them they’re sending someone else out. I get on the horn and wait, and then I hear a very familiar, very out of it voice. It’s the same guy. I ask if the driver has gotten there yet, and the voice says, “Yeah, he did. It’s not a big deal, I told him it’s cool. ” So I thank him and hang up. And that’s how I delivered to the right house at the wrong address.
33. Girls Gone Wild
I work at a corporate pizza place and to be honest, I rather enjoy it. But, this night was one of the most bizarre nights. We had a guy order $150 worth of food online. Alright, whatever. We make it and I send the driver on his way. The delivery is at a hotel. The driver reads the delivery instructions that the customer wrote. It said, “deliver to room/lobby.”
The driver proceeds to walk into the lobby, and is about to call the customer to see what they wanted and what room, as they never said which room. The hotel staff know us very well by now and said, “Oh you are delivering to this room, they are having a birthday party.” So the driver goes to that room and delivers it to a room full of little girls partying.
I get a call five minutes later from the customer. He explains to me that he is very upset that the driver delivered to the room and did not follow his instructions word for word. Just to be clear, we did deliver to the right room. I explained our side and said the instructions were unclear and we know the staff at the hotel, but that I understand. His reaction rendered me nearly speechless.
He then starts flipping out. He said he “didn’t want some nasty driver entering a room full of underage girls.” I was stunned. The driver in question is one of the best, has two kids of his own, etc. We do background checks before hiring as well. I explained this to him. Then he said, “I don’t care, I want a full refund.” I said no. This guy proceeds to go full blast on me, calling me names, etc.
Eventually, to get off the phone because orders were piling up, I said, “Sir, if you are going to be like this, I will hang up since this is going nowhere.” He called me another name and hung up. Five minutes later, he called back wanting to talk to the manager. I said I am the manager. Then he went balls to the wall again about how he didn’t know what the driver would do to the girls and he doesn’t know our driver.
I said, “Well, I know our driver and he would never. I said I understand your concern as a father, but we would not hire someone who we thought would do that.” Eventually, he hung up after repeating, “I don’t know what he’d do to the girls” because he could see I was not going to give him a refund for such a weak argument. Truly, I think he made something up to see if he could get his money back and he chose the wrong story to go with and the wrong driver to accuse.
34. Don’t Mess With Mr. Rules
I am normally pretty chill with customers. If you’re short 50 cents, no sweat. However, if a customer is gaming the system or being a jerk, I become Mr. Rules, the pettiest driver in the world. So a customer tonight calls five minutes before we close and orders triple-cooked wings, among other things. Triple cooked wings take at MINIMUM 21 minutes to make.
Not 10 minutes into the order, said jerk customer calls back and asks why it is taking so long. His food finally comes out and I leave. I roll up on his ratty trailer and he’s standing outside. I tell him the total, $21.26. He hands me a crumpled 20, a 1, and a single quarter. He then looks at me, and I quote: “I ain’t got a penny, you’ll just have to spot me.” I then, in my best customer service voice, tell him that I can’t give him his food unless I get the full amount.
He didn’t like that. Started cussing me out and threatening me. I simply told him to have a good night, handed his money back to him, got in my car, and drove back to the store.
35. Work Hard For Your Money
Last night it was getting pretty late. It was almost 1 am, and I got a delivery to one of the apartments lots of college kids live at. I don’t remember what the order was, a couple pizzas and some wings I think, and the total was $37.08. So I knock on the door and I can hear quite a few people, probably a party but no big deal. They answer the door and ask how much it is.
I tell them and they start trying to round up cash. One of the girls asked me if I could use the calculator on my phone and see how much it would be divided among six people. I tell her it would be $6.18 each, and another guy comes to the door with like $28, then someone else gives him some bills and they count it out to like $44 and everyone is happy.
I give them parmesan and red peppers, tell them good night, and turn around to leave when I hear, “Wait, come back just a second…” So I turn around and ask what’s up. “I’ll give you another $10 if you can spit a dope rhyme.” Another guy offers $5 on top of that. I kind of smiled and said, “…darn.” The guy says, “just a couple bars!”
One of the girls goes to grab her phone to record and the guy tells her no, that’s too much pressure, but she’s already on her way. I say, “Ok, but one of y’all has to beatbox for me.” They agree, and a couple of them come and stand next to me while the girl starts recording on her phone. The two guys start up the beat, so here comes my turn.
“These people making me spit, a Christmas rhyme…Hopefully I’ll make, more than a dime…” And I was gonna keep going but they all lost it, yelling and cheering like in those rap battle videos like I just had the best line ever. They all start handing me money saying that was awesome. I get the $15 they promised, plus a couple other people gave me some bills.
We shake hands and stuff and I tell them thanks, Merry Christmas, etc. Got back to my car and counted and had a $37 tip, $30 of it from a 5-second rap.
36. The Tipping Point
As of today, if you’re under the age of “child” and you go to pay for a pizza, I’m going to tell you “get your parent or whoever placed the order.” Here’s why. So to start this off, I was closing on Saturday. I got off work at 11:30 pm, and then I had a pretty serious issue come up, so I go to bed around 3 am. Also, I was opening driver the next day, so I got back there at 9:30 am.
So I’m not like SLEEPY but I’m not 100% there. This is relevant later. It’s an insanely slow day at work. Like, we had no real orders apart from the random one every 45 minutes or so until like 2 pm. I deliver a few and it’s all good, until I get a single to some super close house. I deliver it as usual, and I see someone looking over the window on the door.
“WHO IS IT.” I hate this. I’m carrying two dinner boxes, wearing a Pizza Hut hat, a Pizza Hut shirt, and you ordered pizza 20 minutes ago. But, you know, customer service. “It’s Pizza Hut!” I intentionally crack my voice because I’m a little befuddled that this man is looking at me in the eye. So he walks away and I’m out there for a minute or two.
I figure he’s just grabbing his wallet, or maybe putting a dog in a cage or something. Then the door opens and it’s a little girl. I’m not sure if she was the one that ordered the pizza or the dad is too busy to answer the door now but I accept it and I give her the food. “It’s $34.47.” She hands me $40. “Great, would you like any change?” “Uhh…I don’t know.”
I’m having a bad day, so I’m kind of less willing to just be like “screw it.” “Okay. Well if you wanna leave a tip, that’s up to you, but if not, then I’ll give you back the $5.” “I wanna leave a tip.” “How much?” “$8” “You can’t do that, you’d need to give me more money for that.” “Keep the change then.” “Cool, thank you so much! Have a good day!”
Vroom vroom, your boy finally has a not bad tip. Fantastic. I drive back to the store and chill out waiting for the second order of my double to come out. Then an angry couple comes into the store while I’m talking to the other driver. I’m oblivious to this as I’m not all the way there. My manager comes up to me and asks, “Who took this order?” with the address written down.
I say that I did and pull up the ticket, thinking maybe it was a phone call and I forgot something. But there they are, two grown parents, in our Pizza Hut location not long after I got back, with angry looks on their faces. I don’t look at them because this manager isn’t super experienced with the driver systems, so I figured she just needed help figuring out how to find the ticket.
Then the magic of customer service begins again. “ARE YOU THE ONE THAT DELIVERED OUR PIZZA.” “Yup!” Note that at this point, I’m stuck in customer service mode. Nothing fazes me. Not just because I’m working as a delivery driver but because I have had very little restful sleep. I’m literally not processing that they’re angry, I’m just processing them as customers I have to deal with before my shift ends.
“YOU TOOK OUR MONEY WHY DIDN’T YOU GIVE US BACK OUR CHANGE YOU JUST LEFT.” “Your daughter gave me a tip. I asked her if she wanted to leave a tip and she said yes.” “SHE’S NOT STUPID WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT.” “I don’t know.” “GIVE US OUR MONEY BACK.” “Can do! Let me just pull it from my box!” Apparently, during this time, they were talking about beating my butt and how I’m a horrible employee and something about my stutter, but I honestly was so tired I didn’t hear a thing.
I go to my box and I search for the worst $1 bills I can find. I carefully straighten them out to make sure they’re nice and presentable (read: wasting time because I’m literally going from a $5 tip to getting stiffed) and walk back with a big smile on my face. “Here you go! Sorry for the trouble!” Silence. I’m staring at this man for what was about two seconds but what felt like a minute. “You can leave now.” “All right, thank you sir!”
With my customer service grin afoot, I went back to where I was standing before and hopped back on my phone, waiting for them to leave so I could be like “here’s what happened” to my manager. I wanted them to know so they didn’t just assume I was a jerk.
Like, it’s not my fault that you’re too scared to answer the door for pizza so you make your kid do it instead. Then you throw a fit over it and DRIVE TO THE STORE to complain about it. If a kid is going to answer the door, tell them, “Make sure you get $5 in change” or something. Or ANSWER YOUR OWN DOOR LIKE AN ADULT. I swear to god I’m waiting for a kid to drop something so I can be like, “Welp that’s your fault goodbye.”
Luckily, since my general manager wasn’t in, we were all just like “what the heck,” which eventually turned into “what jerks” and then the drivers all agreed that people who send their kids to answer doors unsupervised are bad people. So I’m over that now. And if anyone tries to complain about it, I’ll just tell them I was almost attacked over a kid giving me a tip when their parents didn’t want them to.
37. Put Your Faith In Me
I work part-time as a pizza delivery driver on the weekends. I’m not struggling to the point that I NEED to do it, but I have a two-year-old daughter who I send to a VERY expensive school ($1000+ a month…), so every little bit helps. Last Sunday, I had a stuffed crust pizza order come in at 8:59 pm, and we close at 9 pm. In case you didn’t know, that takes at least 35 minutes JUST to cook.
Usually this is annoying, but I was in a good mood, so I just sat in my car and listened to some podcasts while I waited. When it was done, I noticed that the customer was paying cash and it was actually on the way home. It was only a $33 dollar order, so I decided I would just pay for out of pocket and then deliver it. That way I wouldn’t have to come back to the store after I delivered it. I found out this was a very bad idea soon enough.
When I get to the house, the customer comes to the door with a credit card in her hand. Suddenly, I realize we are going to have a problem. Since the store closed nearly an hour ago, I know that nobody is going to be there to answer the phones, so I can’t charge her card over the phone. I explain this to her as I try to figure out what to do.
Eventually, I decide to just give her the pizza and ask that she just bring the cash into the store tomorrow. I mean, I KNOW where she lives, so I figure I can trust her. The next day, I stop in the shop to see if she dropped off the money. She didn’t. I figured she just didn’t get a chance yet. I didn’t work until the following Friday, so I decided to just wait until then.
Friday comes, and still nothing. The next day I worked was Sunday, exactly one week after I dropped the pizza off. The owner came up to me with a red envelope. Inside it was a “Thank You” card and some cash….a lot of cash. There was also a rather long note. Its contents broke my heart. The gist of it was that the customer was extremely grateful for me trusting her, but there was so much more.
Apparently that day she had her sister over, who currently has cancer and is going through chemo. She is rarely hungry, but that day, she was actually craving OUR pizza. She says that she will never forget how trusting I was and that I really helped make her sister feel better. The bill was $33. Inside the envelope was $104. Today, I did the right thing.
38. Pizza Prejudice
I delivered to this apartment. A guy answers the door, then looks at me with visible disgust. I continue in standard procedure mode: greeting, tell him the total, wait for my money. He says, “No, you are a woman. I will not deal with a woman. Call your manager immediately and have them send a male driver.” I tell him no, I’m not gonna do that, he can pay me and take the food, or not pay me and I’ll leave, because screw him.
I didn’t bother to mention the other driver on shift and the manager were also women. This guy raises his arm like he’s going to backhand me and says something like, “How dare you speak to me like that??” I said, “Screw you. Hit me, I dare you.” Maybe not the best retort, but don’t worry, I’ve done dumber stuff in my life. He lowers his arm, literally throws the money at me, rips the bag of subs out of my hand, and slams the door.
After spending a while vomiting some choice words at his closed door until I reached some level of satisfaction, I went back to the store to share the tales of my adventures. One of the other managers who had come in went into the dude’s customer account to add a ban note, briefly detailing the situation and that he had threatened to hit me and that we were not to take his orders anymore. But it took an awful turn.
The store manager comes in later and hears the story. He goes into the freaking customer account and changes the ban to a note saying to only send male drivers to take this delivery. And that is when I decided to quit that job.
39. Go With The Classics
I was listening to the band Boston as I pulled up to this house one night. This dude was old and told me he liked my taste in music. He handed me $20 and I was like, “Man are you sure? You just made my night,” and he was like “Here, let me really make it” and gave me another $20. So advice for other drivers: Listen to mainstream classic rock and older people will probably tip/like you better.
40. A Helping Hand
We have an awesome pizza guy. He’s kind of a friend now since he comes so much. We tip him very well and the next step will be to invite him to chill with a drink after his shift. I heard knocking on my door this weekend, but I hadn’t invited anyone. I look through the magic eye and saw our pizza guy. He seems very worried. I opened the door and he was like, ”Hey, I really need your help!”
Now I’m concerned. He explained to me that he was on a shady order and the address where he was about to deliver did not exist. He lost his cell phone and needed ours, so I let him call. The customer wasn’t speaking very loudly, so he put her on speakerphone. The woman that answered was clearly lost and did not know where she lived.
I suspect she was on heavy substances since her speech didn’t make any sense. I barely understood it, but he was so used to this kind of customer that he did decode what she was trying to say. She had basically mixed two addresses together, and he figured it all out. Honestly, I was amazed. I finally understood the full skills of his job.
Before he left, I said he was always welcome here if he needed help or just to chill. He was very grateful.
41. Dreams: Crushed
I know getting the “sex for pizza” offer is everyone’s greatest dream when they enter the delivery profession, and you know what, it was mine too. But not anymore. I was working the morning shift (11-4) and this was my second to last delivery of the shift. You need to understand something: We have a bunch of high school drivers who don’t really want to be working.
They don’t get out of their cars and just park in front of the house and honk. When the customer doesn’t come out, they just leave. So the boss instituted a new rule that if you don’t make a reasonable attempt to deliver the pizza, you’re paying for it. Besides that, it’s usually a chill place to work for, and the only place within our zone that hasn’t been gentrified or bought out by the university yet is this sketchy pay-by-hour motel.
Well, that’s where my second-to-last delivery was to. Because most of our drivers are minors and women, I usually get the deliveries out there to that motel. But it’s no big deal because it’s mostly college kids and couples who order pizza down there. Plus, this particular order was for 15 pizzas, so I was anticipating a big tip. This time though, I knew something wasn’t right when I pulled up.
The door was cracked open and there were a lot of trash bits by the door, even for this place. I just got that “don’t go into the basement” sense. As I approached the door, I could see some broken glass and what looked to be human waste on the floor. Guard immediately went fully up. I knocked and announced myself, and a voice says something I can’t make out.
So I just repeat, “Please come to the door and collect your order.” Then I hear it. “I’M SCREWING SOMEONE, ARE YOU DEAF?” I figured I must have misheard. And no way was I about to eat the tab for 15 pizzas, so I had to be able to say with certainty I did everything I could to try and deliver. So I’m standing there, hearing creaking and moaning and worrying I did not mishear.
I’m waiting for him to show with the money and then he says, “You coming or what?” I didn’t think he was talking to me so I just stood there. “COME IN HERE” Haha, nah. I’m good right out here where there are witnesses. I said, “Can’t do that bud, can you hand me the money out here please?” unintelligible rambling I figure I’ll stand there three more minutes and if he hasn’t surfaced I’d terminate the order.
Just as I’m about to turn and go, a guy FLINGS the door open and he’s Bare. Naked. He’s an older guy and looked rough, but I’ve seen worse delivering, so I just keep my eyes above the equator and, from a healthy distance, request payment first. He says, “Well, don’t got any.” Alright. Got my valid excuse to not deliver the pizzas. Ready to nope out.
So as I’m backing away, he goes, “WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT” twitching and smacking the side of his head. Thankfully at this point, he wrapped a sweatshirt around his waist. Then he goes in a drawer hands me a freaking Rolex. I’m 95% sure it’s fake, because it came from a drawer of like 10 of them, but it looked cool as heck, very convincing.
So I figured I’m holding in my hands the best Father’s Day present I’ll ever give. Let me just try and convince my boss they refused to pay. If he drives over, he’ll see the place is a complete den of danger. But it doesn’t end there. The guy says “You indistinguishable shouting and cursing put them down.” I thought maybe he was hallucinating, but I realized he meant bring the pizzas inside because he kept gesturing to the countertop.
I figure I could practically reach it from through the open door and it was technically my job, so I started loading them in, and that’s when it happened. A woman came out of the bathroom, naked but for a crop top, and walks right up to me. THE STENCH PEOPLE. It hit me like a wall. It was like curdled milk and pool cleaner. I almost vomited it was so immediate and strong.
I pick up all the remaining pizzas at once, put them down, and they’re whispering. Whispering is never good. Time to go. Shouldn’t have stayed this long. As I’m setting down the pizzas, dude says, “Give back the watch. You can sleep with her. You can, go ahead. Go ahead. Go ahead. She’s warmed up. Go ahead. Go ahead.” I was so dumbstruck at how nauseating this all was that I froze up for a second.
Then she put her hand on my shoulder and I LEAPT up and got out of there as fast as I’ve ever gone anywhere in my life. Of course, no one believed me when I went back to the shop and said the customer offered to let me sleep with his girl for payment. My boss was like, “If you didn’t feel safe delivering, just man up about it and don’t make up a wild fantasy.”
But no matter how graphic I got, they did not grasp there was nothing fantastical about it. So I have shared here now and we all know the real story is not the blonde bikini model dream my co-workers are picturing.
42. Glow Up
I work for a smaller pizza place just outside of a college town, where mostly students, faculty, and families order. I had a delivery to a house that I had been to before. I remembered this older gentleman who was pretty rude, didn’t tip, and overall was not my favorite delivery the last time I took it. When I got to his house, I braced myself for some problem to happen or for him to snap at me.
But when I got to the door, his demeanor had changed. “Wow, you’re a pretty pizza girl!” He said, and I thanked him awkwardly. “Much prettier than that last girl they sent!” I thanked him again and took my tip, knowing the whole time that I’m the only female driver we have, and it certainly was me the last time he ordered. At least I glowed up, not down?
43. All In The Family
My stepdad works for a pizza place. He mainly does deliveries, and he’s had quite a few stories. So one day, dad was getting ready to head to work. Now, dad had told me, “If you want some food, you’ll have to cook it yourself. I’m not bringing food home.” I said OK, and he left for work. For what it’s worth, he wasn’t trying to be rude; he was just going to work for a long time, and him bringing home Arby’s or something would make him come home at around midnight. He works super late.
Now, I was feeling a bit peckish, but I was also really lazy that day. I knew dad was working delivery that night, so I decided to mess with him a little. On his pizza place’s website, you can request specific drivers to deliver your food. Just for grins, I specified that they send dad. When dad arrived at home with my food, I paid for it, then smirked, “I thought you said you weren’t gonna bring food home.”
He shook his head and smiled at me, then went back to work.
44. Just Messing With You
A few years ago, I worked at a wing delivery place after moving across country for college. I accidentally left my microwave at home, but luckily my mom had some business in the town I was living in, so she tossed it in her car and brought it with her to her hotel the next time she came. We’d discussed it beforehand, and she got a hotel in my delivery radius.
She ordered some wings, and I was the driver for it. I get the wings, head over, and start going to the elevators. I give the front desk workers a small wave as I go by. I get up to her room, make some small talk, and take my microwave from her. I then make my way back down to the lobby and the front desk workers call me over. They ask what I’m doing with the microwave, and I explain that it was my tip from the customer.
That hotel didn’t have microwaves in the rooms, so they let me go. I loved the confused looks on their faces.
45. I’m Back, Baby
I quit my general manager job back in March. We had done an amazing job and we were the best store in my franchise group. However, I quit due to the owner sucking and running her business into the ground. Her husband had once bought a bunch of stores and knew how to run them. He passed and she was clueless about managing the business that fell into her lap.
She sold to a new owner, who called me up and offered me my old job back with a generous pay raise. I accepted the job offer and oh my God. It’s only been eight months but my once beautiful store is in a sorry state of affairs. All but two of my old staff quit. The people they have in there now are all terrible. They were never trained correctly on how to make the food.
They lack any semblance of customer service skills. They call off all the time. There is mold and expired products everywhere. The place is so gross. I’m going to be firing at least half these clowns over the next month or two and start building a functional store again. Just wanted to rant a bit and say I’m back! I love working at pizza shops. Fun and casual work environment—yes please.
46. A Little Light Humor
I happen to be up at the counter doing some stuff when a lady comes in. She is looking at the menu board, then asks, “How big is the personal pizza?” Without even thinking, I snap off, “Any size pizza can be a personal pizza ma’am. You just have to believe in yourself.” I don’t think that she was amused, but the people behind her were cracking up.
47. I’ve Got Your Back
We have a regular customer who I had to request a welfare check on this morning. She is the sweetest old lady that we deliver to. Maybe 75-80 years old. She never tips well but no one cares. She’s in a wheelchair and has the cutest little Corgi named Frazier. She always tells us about her great-grandchildren and how well they are doing.
For privacy, I’ll call her Sarah. She orders pizza three or four times a week, and always the same thing. This is the first time she has not answered the door in the two years that I have been there. I called her twice, no answer, and even walked in the front door to see if she was there. I didn’t want to go wandering around her house though, so I just went back out the front door, closed it, and called dispatch.
I hope she’s all right. But all I can imagine is her somewhere in her house having fallen down and not been able to get back up.
48. Like The Cat Who Got The Cream
I took the call for these people, and it took all the patience I had for it. They were crammed in the back of an Uber and all yelling over each other. Finally, the guy on the phone told them to shut up or they’re not getting food and was able to place the order with me. Tips weren’t predictable last night, so I was just like…I’m getting mileage and this is my last run, and I wasn’t expecting any tip because they were trashed.
The girl writes $20 in the tip line and gives me the receipt, saying, “I can’t do math for the total, sorry,” and tells her friend to bring me her cat. I’m like…why is she telling him to bring me a cat?! Then this tiny little black and white kitten with the cutest meow got put on my shoulder, and I’ve never smiled so much in my life. I definitely hung around there for another few minutes and it made my whole year.
49. Anything Can Happen
I’d been having a really busy night, non-stop back and forth, without any time to even pause and go to the bathroom. I’d been so busy that I wasn’t even thinking about bathroom breaks. But we were also going through a bit of a heatwave in our area, so I’d been drinking copious amounts of water. All of a sudden as I was driving to this particular delivery, the urge to go hit me.
Like, things went from 0 to 60 in an instant. Thankfully I was close to the customer so could get this one over with quickly. Or so I thought. I pulled up to the house, and it was an area I’d delivered in before, so I could immediately see that something wasn’t right. All the lights were off in the house, not even the glow of a television or anything.
It was extra apparent because the streetlight closest to the door happened to be out of order. And on top of it all, the block was super quiet. This is a big university area, and obviously there aren’t many student renters in July, but there had to be at least one person, because someone ordered this pizza. Maybe they just liked sitting in the dark or they were out back in the yard, whatever.
I just didn’t want to get out of my car and knock on a quiet house in the middle of the night (around 9:30pm) without first checking that I had the correct address and the customer was inside. It was scorching that night, even after sundown. My car’s A/C is a joke, and the piping hot pizzas don’t help things much, so I have to try and open the car door as infrequently as possible to keep any cool air in.
I called the number the customer provided and the voice on the other end said, kind of brusquely and out of breath, “Yah?” I just tried to keep it clear and concise, “Hey, it’s your pizza out front but there doesn’t appear to be anybody home?” And the customer replied, still gasping for air, “Yah, I’m not home.” I had to pee so badly by that point that I was much less patient than I’d otherwise be with a customer right out of the gate.
“Well, then we’re going to have to terminate the order, because I’ve arrived in the stated delivery window and you were supposed to pay in cash, so, I don’t know what to tell you. Plan ahead next time.” I instantly regretted letting my bladder do the talking for me as the voice on the other end came through more clearly as a young, bubbly, and very distraught girl who couldn’t have been older than 20 or 25.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I was running down the street so I could barely hear you!” She cried, “I just switched you out of my Air Pods. Is that better? Sorry, I completely lost track of time at work, but I knew you were coming, that’s why I’m literally running home right now. Please don’t leave, I’m starving and I don’t have a car. Seriously, please don’t leave. Five minutes tops, ok?”
I know what it’s like to be hungry, and running late, and have no car but not live near any restaurants. Plus when I heard her voice I began to remember more specifically having delivered to this place a couple times before, and she’d always been perfectly nice. Now I felt bad for snapping at her. I tried to walk it back, while simultaneously looking out my window for potential spots to pee.
“No, no, my bad, I’m letting the heat get to me and it’s not your fault. No need to rush. See you when you get here.” I hung up and, while watching the street, was starting to think I was really out of luck. All the other houses had people in them, and were close together, so there were no clumps of trees or out of the way patches of land or anything.
Of course, I had just tossed my empty water bottle at the last delivery, because I’m an idiot. I had to resort to drastic measures. Finally, I decided it was escalating to the point of an emergency, and the safest bet was to use a bush in front of the woman’s house. She wasn’t home, after all. The streetlight was out so no one would see me.
The people who were home were inside. My car was parked across the street and we’re a small shop who don’t wear uniforms, so if someone did spot me, they’d have no way to connect me to my employer. Animals pee outside all the time, humans are animals…this is fine. I scurried over to the tallest bush in her front yard. She didn’t really have much of a yard, more just a walkway lined with bushes and flowers that ran adjacent to her front door.
The biggest cluster of bushes, the only one where I could be sure there would be no visible splatter on the side of the house, was about four feet from her door. I looked both ways, unzipped, and let fly. After the initial millisecond of relief, I noticed the sound was way off, more like pissing on something solid than something leafy. I started panicking. I was thinking I’d aimed wrong. But once I start, I can’t stop mid-stream, so I kept squinting into the darkness to see if maybe I was hitting a key rock or something and could just move a few inches over. Instead, all of a sudden, I heard a way more concerning noise. A deep voice exclaiming, “What the heck?” And before I could turn around, assuming I’d been caught by a neighbor, a man came leaping out of the bushes.
He blew by me, brushing my golden shower off him as did. He spit pretty emphatically on the ground, so I think I might’ve beaned him right in the face. I didn’t see where he went after a few paces but, though this next part is kind of a blur, I do think I remember hearing a car screech out from a bit further away after a minute.
I’d gotten some night vision by that point so I was able to make out his height, build, and outfit, but only the most general details of each. I was in such shock that I didn’t even pull my pants up. I just stood there trying to figure out what had happened. The reality was so terrifying that my mind refused to accept it. Instead, I impulsively searched for a reasonable explanation that could make everything okay.
I thought, “Could these bushes lead to some backyard area and just looked like they were against the house? Could they have been obscuring an open window?” My inner voice was desperately screaming, “Bruh that man was wearing a hoodie in 90-degree weather. That was a bad man. You’re in a bad situation.” But the very idea that I was within inches of a guy who would be hiding in bushes at all, let alone in front of a young woman’s house at night, just wasn’t something I was ready to grapple with yet.
I was coping by not coping. My fight or flight response totally failed me at that point, because my dumb brain did the absolute last thing I should have done, and I approached the bushes to try and validate this “There must have been a good reason for a man in a hoodie to be behind these bushes in the middle of the night” theory. So I walked over to the side, turned on my phone flashlight, and tried to peer around the line of shrubbery.
Pro tip: As scary as things may look in the dark, seeing them with a single beam of your flashlight can sometimes make it even worse. That’s when I saw the bag. There was a tattered drawstring bag sitting behind the bushes, slightly splashed with pee. But I was in such a moronic daze from shock that I groped around for it thinking, “See? This is it, this will explain why he was back here.” Oh, it explained it.
Once I maneuvered it over and pulled it open, I saw a sharp knife, a roll of duct tape, and a bottle of pills. The delusions officially broke at that point and all the adrenaline, endorphins, and self-preservation instincts that had been suppressed kicked in ten times over. I became whatever the opposite of dazed is. More laser-focused than I have ever been in my life, with one singular goal: “Get back to my car.”
I dropped the bag, booked it across the street, got in my car, and slammed the pedal to the floor before the door was even all the way closed. I went as far as I could as fast as I could until I hit a red signal, then I pulled off to the side and realized I shouldn’t be driving anymore than necessary in the condition I was in. I pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour drug store and took a breath.
I was finally calm and coherent enough to zip up. Then I formulated a plan of action. My first lucid thought was, “Who do I call first, the authorities or the girl whose house that was?” I thought about it for what couldn’t have really been more than 10 seconds, but felt like an hour, and decided “Ok. I am in my locked car with the engine running. If trouble starts, I can drive away. I know something’s up, she might not, and she needs to know not to keep walking in that direction.”
But as I was dialing her number, a more disturbing thought occurred to me. “What if there was no girl?” I thought I remembered delivering to that house before, but what if I was wrong? What if the girl on the phone was just a decoy to get me there to rob me, or worse? Every pizza guy on the planet has seen the Evil Genius documentary by now, so I thought, “She called me all out of breath. She wasn’t home. The whole thing was off, can’t risk it, I’ll start with the authorities.
I called 9-1-1. The operator was very helpful in keeping me calm, because I was a complete wreck by this point. He kept assuring me that someone would be there soon. I kept telling them they had to get there before the girl did, but I was trying to express three thoughts at once, and really damaging my own credibility by the end of it.
It came out more as: “You’ve got to save this girl because he wasn’t after me I was just delivering a pizza. Unless they were after me, in which case there might not be a girl, but I talked to one on the phone, so then you should find that girl because they used her to lure me there. But if she’s real she doesn’t know about the guy, who was also real, and there could be more guys if there’s actually a girl, and you know what? Even if there isn’t a girl there might actually be more guys. I only checked one part of the bushes so I don’t actually know. But we’ll know which guy is the one I saw because I peed all over him, you know. I didn’t mean to, this was back when I thought the girl was real but not home, but she might be real so you really need to find her if she is because the guy was real—”
Finally they basically just asked me to stop talking and stay on the line. But that was when I saw an incoming call from the customer. I couldn’t answer it without disrupting my 9-1-1, so I just ignored it. My problems just got worse. Then she sent me this text like, “Hey I’m here, don’t see you?” I told 9-1-1 she was there and they said officers were only minutes away.
But who knows how long that meant? Especially after I’d given such a scattered account of the events in my panic. I just felt overwhelmed with guilt. Because my rational mind said the odds of her being a decoy girl for some large scam targeting pizza guys were low and the odds of her being the intended victim of a predator were high.
So I put my 9-1-1 call on mute (where I can hear them but they can’t hear me) and turned back, heart absolutely pounding out of my chest. Then I took 9-1-1 off mute and told them I had returned to look for the girl. They weren’t happy about that, but I saw her meandering past the parked cars in the street looking to see if one was mine, and I waved her down, flashing my brights.
She bounced on over to the window of my car, happy-go-lucky. I figured that was a good sign that she wasn’t in on whatever this was. But I was just so scared to be back in the general area and to not know what had just happened or what was going to happen. I kept whispering “Get in. Get in!” And she was like, “Get it? Huh? Oh! You want me to get the pizza from the back?”
I didn’t want to make the same mistake with her that I had made with 9-1-1, so instead of trying to tell the whole story, I stuck to the bare basic facts. “There was a man in your bushes. I’m on the phone with the authorities. I don’t know where he is right now. Please get in the car so we can lock the doors.” I was barely able to get even those sentences out, and I was shaking like I’d had 10 cups of black coffee.
I held up my phone with 9-1-1 on the call screen to verify it for her. I thought that was why she got in the car with no further explanation, but it turns out that wasn’t entirely it. “You still there? Is she with you? Are you safe? Is anyone else there?” 9-1-1 kept checking in, not knowing who the third party I was talking to was. I reassured them, and we drove, more cautiously this time, to a location 9-1-1 instructed us to wait at to speak with officers after they cleared the area.
I didn’t actually have to do much after that. The officers came pretty soon after, a car met us, I gave a statement telling them everything I observed, and she went to go speak to more officers in more detail than they needed me for. It turns out the reason she got right into a strange pizza guy’s car without probing any deeper into my story is because she knew who the man was right away from my description.
She had an ex-boyfriend who was apparently psychotic enough that he immediately came to mind from hearing “There’s a guy in your bushes.” She later called us to thank me and insist on leaving a huge tip. I wasn’t there when the call came in so the kid who answered didn’t know to refuse the money. But the manager already promised the next time we see her we can load her up with enough “one free pie” cards to last a lifetime.
Easily the scariest thing that has ever happened to me, on the job or off. I don’t get the chance to tell the story much, because I try to avoid sharing it with anyone who could possibly know the girl or know of the event. But I’m still not the same since. Even though I know he didn’t even have anything to do with me directly, this truly shook me to my core. Be safe out there guys. Anything can happen.
50. The All-Seeing Pie
Several years ago I was running pies for the Hut. We had a particularly nice house that I always seemed to get. It was a nice couple with three kids and a big house. They had money and always had large orders and tipped well. One day, I get routed to their address but I notice the order is very different than normal. It’s about double what they order and the name on the order is not the father’s name.
Interesting, so I take the order to their house. The house is literally bumping. Mom and dad’s car is nowhere in sight. I get their oldest daughter, roughly 15, to answer the door. Now mind you, I don’t care at all if the kids are having a good time, but she made an enemy of me that day. She proceeds to complain that I took forever in a condescending tone, make fun of my uniform, and stiff me on a $100+ order.
I didn’t say anything at the time, but I got my revenge. About two weeks later the house orders again. Normal order, normal name. And I magically get their order. When I arrive, her father is at the door and I can’t help myself. I ask him if they had a good time at the party. He’s clearly confused, so I remind him of the great party they had two weeks prior.
He sits and thinks for a minute. Then he hands me a freaking $50 tip and says, “Thank you very much, I’m sure we enjoyed the party a lot.” After he closes the door, all I hear is him yell “Brooooookk get your butt down here right now.” It was a jerk move sure, but nah, be nice to your driver—and tip them.
51. It Was A Dark And Stormy Night
One night I have a delivery to a pretty rural area. A lot of my deliveries are to rural areas, so no big deal. But tonight it’s drizzling and especially dark, so I’m having trouble finding the address of the house I’m looking for. So I roll down the passenger window and use my (really bright) flashlight, pointing it at mailboxes/trees/posts/anything that somebody might have their address on at the end of their driveway.
So I’m driving along at like five miles an hour, pointing my flashlight, when the beam catches a guy wearing a black hoodie at the end of an obviously long gravel road. He’s staring directly at me. More of a glare at me, really. But whatever, he could just be on the phone or something. Then it gets weirder. I finally find the address I’m looking for, pull into the drive, and hop out of the car.
That’s when I get the sinking feeling. No cars, no house light, boarded-up windows. If you’ve ever been a delivery person, you know that this is the time to get out of there because you’re about to get robbed. Right as I’m about to jump in, throw the car into reverse, and nope the heck out of there, I see a man walking across the empty field adjacent to the property towards me.
Dear God. Now, I’m a pretty burly, bearded dude, so I don’t worry a whole lot on deliveries, but this scared the heck out of me. When he gets closer, I see him very obviously tucking something into his waistband. He then says in a thick, menacing southern accent, “I thought you was the law,” I guess because of how I was scanning the addresses.
I meekly point to my car topper and the pizza in my hand, and he says in the nicest voice you’ve ever heard, “Oh, great! Thank you so much! Have a great night!” He pays me, and proceeds to walk back through the open field, in the direction of no buildings, in the rain, with his pizza. For the rest of my shift I couldn’t stop whispering “What. The. Heck.” Strangest thing that’s ever happened to me.