Delivery story 188 Brian writes: Back when I worked at a Domino's Pizza in Las Cruces, NM, we had a regular customer that was truly ........... unique. This particular gentleman was somewhat disturbed and probably very lonely. For a while we knew him only as "The Mystical Pharaoh." No, seriously, that was the name he requested on his account in our computer. The Mystical Pharaoh, henceforth to be called simply TMP, would call to place his order and these phone calls would often take five minutes or more because the guy would ramble and sometimes just flood you with gibberish. For example, he once told me he kept his credit cards in his Altoid tin to keep them from "running off." Another time he broke off his order to tell me that the power lines had been watching him but that he was too sneaky for them. Things like this were the norm for TMP so many of us actually fought over who got to take his call just so we could hear what he was going to say next. Luckily, his orders were very similar and you eventually learned to just wade through the strange and get him focused on what he wanted. Mostly, he'd order two or three large veggie or supreme pizzas and then two or three six-packs of soda. He lived in a single wide trailer a good four miles from the store (this store has a huge delivery area.) To be honest, I'm not even sure he had the electricity on because his place was always dark. Luckily for us, his trailer was right underneath a street lamp so on the rare occasions he ordered after dark, we didn't feel too creeped out going up to his place. TMP himself was probably in his mid to late 40's, white, kinda scrawny, and perpetually unshaven. None of us were ever really afraid of him because, while he was definitely not all there, he was never aggressive or angry with you (power lines on the other hand had best beware.) Most of the time he would meet you at the door of his trailer before you knocked. On rare occasion he'd be sitting on his steps waiting. This, together with his phone calls, led me to the conclusion that we pizza guys/girls were much of his social contact, if not all of it. As we passed off his multitude of pizzas and sodas he would pretty much pick up where he left off on the phone (with the crazy speak, not the exact thing he'd been talking about on the phone.) My personal all time favorite went something like this: TMP: Do you know Brian? Me: I am Brian, sir. TMP: *puzzlement* TMP: *smile* TMP: Ahh I didn't recognize you because your head had shrunk! TMP was an erratic but occasionally good tipper. Many of his orders were placed on credit cards (yes, the ones in the altoid tin!--I actually saw him pull them out of it many times) so this would require us to coax him into giving us his signature. TMP had a very slow and deliberate signature (yes, with his real name) which involved him sitting down and pushing the tip of his tongue out the side of his mouth as he seemed to have to focus completely at this simple task. After a little parting gibberish he'd smile and head back into his small, dark trailer and that was that. He'd order from us every two or three days so it was entirely possible that this guy ate nothing but our pizza and drank nothing but the soda we sent him. After I had transferred out of that store to a different one in the same area, I would keep in contact with people from the other store to see if there were any new TMP gems lately. It turns out that not long after I left he started writing big checks to the store and the store would keep a running balance for him until he ran out of pre-paid pizzas. These checks were for $500 or more. He was the only customer that they did that for. Eight to twelve months after I left he stopped ordering and disappeared. To this date, some two years later, we've yet to hear what happened to him. It's pretty clear to me that he was Schizophrenic and likely on medication for it since he wasn't locked away somewhere. return to top