Delivery story 129 Herman writes: I was working at Walt's Pizza in Marion, IL. I was not a pizza cook -- I was the steak and seafood cook. They RARELY let me make deliveries. No one else knew how to cook the steaks and seafood. Employees were not allowed to smoke in the building, but I was itching for a smoke. We got an order for the motel across the street. I remember the name Smith clearly. I asked my boss if I could take the order. He was noncommittal and said, "I don't know. We might get busy." When the order was ready I asked again. I told him, "I will just go across the street and come right back." He relented and told me five minutes tops. I said, "No problem." As I headed out the door I lit a smoke and snuffed it out just before I got to the door. When I knocked on the door, this pretty blonde came to the door wrapped in a towel. I told her the total, she handed me $20, I handed her the pizza, and she dropped her towel. She was wearing nothing but a pair of men's jockey shorts and a rose tattoo on her left breast. Somehow, while I was making change, she got the towel back on. I thanked her for her business and wished her a good night. As I turned to leave she said, "Would you like to see them again?" I smiled and said, "Sure," so she opened up her towel and I admired her for a moment. Then I once again wished her a good night. All along I could hear a male in the room telling her, "Stop messing with that kid and bring me my pizza." Fast forward 12 or 13 years. There was a cute little blonde living upstairs from me with her husband. We got to know one another, partied a little bit, but the young girl looked so familiar it bugged me for months. She was too young to be anyone I knew from before. Finally I asked her, "What does your mother look like?" She said, "Just like me." I said, "Does she have a rose tattoo right here?" Her eyes got big and she said, "How did you know?" Then I told her about my favorite pizza delivery. return to top