A Two-Person Pizza Party

I often witness my family giving employees a hard time for things that they could not possibly control; as a result, I always try to be polite. I am taking care of my grandmother and decide to order pizza instead of cooking. When my grandmother’s doorbell rings, I go to the door with cash. Our doorbell plays the most awkward, long tune, and it’s still going on when I open the door.

Me: “Sorry about the doorbell.”

The delivery guy holds out the pizza and I blank.

Delivery Guy: “I have your pizza and your drink.”

Me: “Thank you!”

He hands them to me and I actually take them.

Delivery Guy: “So… umm… what about money?

I stare blankly at him; he stares blankly at me.

Me: “Umm… what?”

The delivery guy looks super uncomfortable and I can’t figure out why.

Delivery Guy: “Your pizza and drink came to about $23.00… Are you going to pay?”

I blush. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.

Me: “I am so sorry! I’m an airhead!”

I hand him two twenties.

Delivery Guy: “So, how much do you want?”

I stare blankly at him; he stares back. It dawns on me that he needs to give me change. I’m so embarrassed, I don’t want to make a bigger fool of myself.

Me: “Just keep it. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me; I’ve taken up so much of your time.”

Delivery Guy: “Thanks! It’s no problem, though. You may be embarrassed but I’ve found this amusing.”

Me: “Well, then… You’re welcome?”

Delivery Guy: “Have a pleasant meal… and can I hear the doorbell again?”

Me: “Umm… if you want?”

Delivery Guy: “Now you’ve completely made my night!

He played the doorbell another two times before leaving.