Typical Friday at "Pizza Glut"

I've mentioned that there are some horror stories related to my driving delivery for some manner of Pizza Nuts. I'll try to keep them straight as separate posts.

Most people don't realize that delivery is a different planet from interacting with folks on a normal basis. For instance, when you get a call on a professional basis you might take it for granted that things on the other end are as stated, and if they aren't you probably won't be scarred for life by the enfolding events.

You probably don't give much thought to the average pizza jockey, who is young and male. But some people do think about it... and call.

Yessir, there've been times when ye olde Chuck-meister was staring down the unfriendly prospect of being paid in the only way that a red-neck woman in a thong and little else is willing to be paid. Well, okay, the prospect was extremely friendly... but not at all attractive.

It was a Friday, and the busy part of the night was winding down at "Pizza Shack", to the point where you become aware of the torrid heat in that little room they cook everything in, and you'd give an eye to get a delivery. People would fight over the next ticket. I came out on top this time.

A woman known to be a good tipper needed a personal pizza delivered. Usually we wouldn't, but she'd ordered a salad and Coke (spell check!), which made the cost enough to warrant it. Out I drove.

She lived maybe 5 blocks away, but had decided to stay in instead of get it herself. Not unusual. My car could've used some repairs, and clouds were rolling in with a low rumbling making everything sound worse than it was. I parked in her rather small yard and made the walk to her door. It was somewhere near 11 P.M.

I rang the doorbell and instantly the door opened. "Hi! Are you here with the pizza?"

I had to stop, because the woman was in an extreme state of dis-dress. There are two types of thoughts that might engage the proto-simian brain when faced with such a predicament... some will tell you that there are only 2 "F"s of such behavior: "fight" or "flee". I'll tell you that there is a third "F", which was a possibility had the women:

a) shaved. Something.
b) lost weight. I'm not usually one to discriminate on this point, but I do have limits. Grotesqueries are those. The woman could've hidden clowns on her person and had them erupt from her at the end of the show and it wouldn't surprise me.
c) shown some small modicum of taste and discrimination. Perhaps had asked for a different delivery person, made note of cute ones, asked me what I was doing later, ANYTHING BUT SHOW UP AT THE DOOR AND PULL THE "I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY" LINE!!"

I'm going to say something about that last: you can't possibly think this is an attractive line to anyone, can you? It's a bit like holding a sign that says: "Will have sex for pizza."

Except less original.

Understand that I was pretty young and on the verge of marrying the first cheap floozie I could locate (on a street corner, no less!), but this was insulting to me and should have been humiliating to her.