Go Easy On The Brain

(I am delivering to a customer who placed their order online. When I get to the door I begin reading off the ticket to make sure everything is correct and accounted for, as is standard procedure, when the customer interrupts me.)

Customer: “And what kind of cheese did you put on it?”

Me: “I believe we use mozzarella and parmesan.”

Customer: “NO! That is NOT what I ordered! You were supposed to make it with Ezon cheese!” *pronouncing ‘ezon’ with a pretentious French accent*

Me: “Um… Sorry, but I’ve never heard of this cheese, and as far as I know we don’t use it.”

Customer: *in a condescending tone* “Well, of course you haven’t heard of it. Maybe if you weren’t so ignorant you’d have a real job instead of delivering pizzas. And apparently even that’s too hard for you because you don’t even know what kind of cheese you use. You’ll probably end up making a career out of getting pregnant for welfare checks.”

Me: “Actually sir, I’m just doing this for extra cash while I’m in University. And since I also do inventory and prep work, I’m certain we don’t carry this type of cheese.”

Customer: “Well, I clicked the button for it on your website! That’s what I asked for and that’s what I was supposed to get!”

(Snatching the receipt out of my hands, then shoving it right up in my face.)

Customer: “GOD, it’s right there on the receipt! SEE?! Eeeeee-zonnn cheeeeeese!”

Me: *suddenly understanding and laughing* “No.”

Customer: “No?! What do you mean NO?!”

Me: “You clicked the button for ‘easy on the cheese.'”

(The customer goes silent and looks at the receipt again, where it says ‘EZon cheese.’ Then without a word he hurriedly tosses some money at me, rips the pizza bag out of my hands and slams the door in my face. I pick up the money off the ground and quickly count it to find it is short. I ring the doorbell a few times before he throws it open, looking livid.)

Customer: “NOW what do you want?!”

Me: *holding up the wadded bills* “I can count properly too, and you still owe $2.37. I’m also going to need the bag back.”

(The customer makes a very dramatic show of stomping his feet as he goes back to the kitchen, and shoves three more dollar bills at me. As I am turning to leave, he explodes again.)

Customer: “What the h*** are you doing?!”

Me: “Leaving.”

Customer: “What about my change?! You think you’re getting a tip after what you put me through?! You still owe me fifty-seven cents!”

Me: “No, a dollar minus thirty-seven is sixty-three. And we don’t carry anything smaller than a dollar bill. Have a nice day.”

Customer: “I am NEVER giving you people my business EVER AGAIN! You can kiss my money goodbye!!!”

Me: “Don’t worry, sir; you were going to be placed on the no-delivery list anyway.”