Unfiltered Story #158667

(In 1989, I’d taken a night job delivering pizza at one of the most popular franchises. I caught on quickly to the delivery aspect. When drivers returned from their deliveries, they’re relegated to box folding, dish washing, or some other menial task. The manager has hired specific employees to answer phones. One evening, I’ve returned from a delivery and am standing right next to a phone. It rings, and I instinctively answer.)

Manager: *gasps*

Me: “Thank you for calling [Pizza Store]. This is [My Name]; how may I help you?”

(I continue to take the customer’s order on the paper form that we used at the time. After I finish, my manager congratulates me for a perfect call, especially when I hadn’t been trained for answering phones. Within a month, I’ve been promoted to be the store’s official driver trainer. About a year later, my manager has been transferred to another store in our franchisee’s group. It happens to be the busiest store in the world, situated in the middle of the office complexes of military contractors, just south of The Pentagon. One evening, he’s short drivers, and calls my new manager and asks if I can work for him that evening. I deliver for him for about an hour, when I’m waiting in the store for my next delivery. The phone rings, but there are about a dozen people between me and the phone bank. I shrug it off and figure one of them will answer, but nobody does. I then see my manager giving me an “answer the phone” gesture. So I fight my way through the others and answer the phone.)

Me: Thank you for calling [Pizza Store]. This is [my name]; how may I help you?”

(After taking the order, my manager waves me over.)

Manager: “I didn’t get a chance to let you know, but all of those other drivers don’t speak English. So if you hear a phone, please jump on it.”