Delivery story 73 Mitzibel writes: I work for Pizza Shuttle in Lawrence, KS, just like Bad Brad. I love this town and I love my job, but sometimes... I'm currently 8 months pregnant and that's usually a big plus when it comes to tipping. A few nights ago, though, it nearly got me killed or at least seriously injured. Being a college town, we have several large apartment complexes filled with nothing but students. The worst one is commonly referred to in the store as Padre Island. We write that in place of the actual address on delivery slips because every weekend it devolves into one enormous sloppy-drunk party. As I made my way across the commons area, I heard a loud shout coming from a third floor balcony: "Hey, she's pregnant, that counts for two!" and looked up just in time to duck an empty full-sized keg hurled by a group of drunken girls apparently in the middle of a live-action game of Donkey Kong. Needless to say, the cops heard all about that one. Last year I delivered to a large house party. After explaining several times to the drunken revelers who I was looking for, I was told, "Um, I don't know if he still wants it. He's pretty busy right now." I said, "That's fine. Where is he? I'll ask him myself," and was led into a back room where several girls in various states of undress were passing around a bottle of cheap hooch and a bong. They pointed me to a dimly-lit corner where the guy who ordered the pizza was sprawled naked in a bean bag chair playing Clinton-era Oval Office, if you catch my drift. He asked one of the half-naked chicas to hand him his pants and proceeded to pay me over the Monica Lewinsky stand-in's merrily bobbing head. Aside from the fantastic story, I got a five dollar tip on a ten dollar order, so all in all, it was one of my better deliveries.