A Crust Stuffed With Zero F***s

It’s the very last shift of my two-week notice from a pizza shop. The owner of the shop is a family friend whom I’ve known my entire life. He’s often called me “the son he never had”, so you could say I could get away with a lot. However, I’ve been nothing but an exemplary employee since day one.

We have a customer who is best described as difficult. He loves to call at the last minute to place an order for delivery. Due to being understaffed, for the last two hours, we only have one employee, so we stop doing deliveries and have pick-up only.

He’ll say his order and address and then hang up. When we don’t show up within five minutes (he’s a twenty-minute drive from us), he’ll call back and shout through the phone. He’ll demand a free pizza to be delivered the next morning. The owner is, sadly, a bit of a pushover and always caves in.

I’ve just finished cleaning and closing everything up a bit early. It’s my last thirty minutes, and I have zero f***s left to give. Then, the phone rings…

Me: “Hello, this is [Pizza Place]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I’d like a large Hawaiian, stuffed crust, delivered to [address].”

Me: “Sir, as we have told you many times, we do not deliver after—”

Caller: *Click*

I hang up the phone slowly and stare at it with eyes full of fire. I feel like I don’t even blink. I only count the seconds leading up to five minutes. Of course, at five minutes on the f****** dot, the burdening chime of the ringtone starts up. I pick it up slowly. My hands shake as my soul prepares to check out. I don’t even say my opening greeting.

Caller: “I ordered a pizza from you half an hour ago! You people are always late! I don’t know why I even waste my time with you! I demand a free pizza delivered to me tomorrow at 8:00 am!”

Something snaps in my brain. I can feel a personality that I buried deep down finally claw its way out. A psychotic grin forms on my face as I hold the phone to my ear.

Me: “Nope.” *Click*

I hang up and continue my evil grin, staring at nothing. The phone rings not even thirty seconds later.

Caller: “Did you just f****** hang up on me?!”

Me: “Yep.” *Click*

I lean against the counter and light up a mental cigarette, so to speak. I start to eat a pizza I made myself for dinner. The phone rings again on cue after my first bite. 

Me: *Chewing food loudly* “Whatchu want?”

Caller: “Are you f****** kidding me?! How dare you?! I’m going to file a complaint and have your dumb a*** fired!”

I channel Walter White with a crotch grab.

Me: “How about you go ahead and file my BALLS, TOO!” *Click*

I start shadowboxing in place. The phone rings again, which I ignore. I sit down and enjoy my pizza for the remainder of my shift. His calls are coming in nonstop. Naturally, I ignore them all. Finally, at the very last minute, as I’m walking out, I answer.

Me: “Eat a d**k, [Customer].” *Click*

The next day, I get a call from the owner.

Owner: “So, I received a troubling complaint this morning. Did you by chance take a call from [Customer]?”

Me: “Nope.”

Owner: *Short pause* “Well, good enough for me! I wish you all the best in the future, and there’s always a job here waiting for you if you need it!” *Click*

I do not condone my behavior as an employee — unless you are absolutely sure you will one hundred percent get away with it!