Delivery story 350 Cut Master writes: I am a driver at a franchise pizza joint in a small town in Washington state. I have only been on the job for about a month, so I'm not that good at it, yet. I get this order for two 16-inch pizzas. The delivery location was about 5 miles away, right off a main highway. So I'm thinking great, I'm gonna have to try to find this douchebag's house in the dark in the rain, going 60 mph down a busy highway. I headed out, and of course our town recently decided to put in those damn curbs in the center of the road, so I can't just get on the main road. Instead, I have to go through parking lots and wait at these slow ass lights. I made it onto the highway after about ten minutes of traffic. I sped along at 60 mph for a few minutes. Then I thought I was getting pretty close to the house, so I was looking for the address. At 60 mph I'm looking through my scratched up glasses and fogged up windows that are also streaking from the rain for a mailbox at night. At the same time, there's about a million cars on this stretch of highway going both directions. Of course, this house was on the other side of the road. I saw what I thought was a mailbox so I slowed down as much as I could and saw that it was a mailbox but there was no address. F$@K! This goes on for about five minutes. I have to turn around and go the opposite direction then repeat, while all these other drivers are honking at me. Finally, I found the mailbox and turned onto his gravel driveway right before an oversized load came down the highway that would have plowed my tiny Toyota car into a pancake. I followed this narrow gravel road for several hundred yards before finding that the house was a mobile home with a yard full of redneck trucks and random junk. I found a tiny spot to pull my car in, got out, and walked to the door. Remember, I had two 16-inch (family size) pizzas. I knocked on his broken screen door and he came to get his order. I then had the pleasure of seeing a man that weighs at least 400 lbs come to the door with no shirt to claim his enormous meal. Of course, I pretended like everything was cool and I said, "Hello, sir. How are you this evening?" in the rain in the dark to this s#!@less fat f#@k in a mobile home off the highway. He then said nothing, handed me a check, took his two pizzas, and closed his door. I got back in my car only to see that he had written a check for the exact amount of the bill. I then backed out of his driveway because there was no possible way for me to turn around. I returned to the store to find that his unpaved driveway got my car dirty as hell because of the rain and mud. I hope that fat mother f#@ker choked to death on his pizza or at least died of a heart attack. Seriously ... I want him dead. return to top