Just When You Think You Know Customers, They Challenge Your Assumptions

I work for a pizza chain, and I’ve just transferred to a new store. At my old store, I was THE closing manager. I closed at least four or five nights a week, working inside almost exclusively.

At this new store, I have more of a hybrid role; I’m inside when I need to be and make delivery runs when the drivers are backed up. I’ve been delivering more than I’m used to and I’m shaking off the rust. And on top of that, I don’t really don’t know the delivery area well at all.

I get this run that looks really close to the store — just around the block close. It’s one bread item and a couple of sauces — just over the delivery minimum — and it’s cash.

I pack it up and go on my way. The delivery app leads me to this sketchy trailer park that I didn’t know existed. As I’m driving around, I notice that at least three-quarters of the lots are deserted, and all the other trailers look like nobody’s lived in them for years. I’m thinking, “If I’m gonna get mugged just for the food I have, this is gonna be the place where it happens.” I don’t think I can express in words exactly how rundown and skid-row-ish this place looks to me.

I finally find the trailer I’m looking for, park, and get out with the food.

This old dude comes stumping down the steps from the front door of this trailer.

Customer #1: “Uhhh… the total was like eigh—” *hiccups* “Eight something, right?”

I think, “Ah, f***. I hope I don’t have to fight this dude.”

Me: “Hey, man, how are you doing tonight? Uhhhh, the total I have here is $12.65.”

Customer #1: “Oh, d***, twelve-something you said?” *Turns toward the trailer* “HEY, DUDE SAYS IT’S TWELVE!”

A sort of indistinct mumbling comes from the open door of the trailer.

The dude turns back to me and hands me a $20. I give him the food and start fumbling for his change.

Customer #1: “Don’t bother, bro; he says keep the whole twenty.”

I now have the appropriate change in hand.

Me: “Uh, you sure?”

Customer #1: “Yeah, bro. You’re good.”

And he stumps his way back up into the trailer with the food. The $7 tip turned out to be the biggest tip of the night. Go figure.

Another night, I get a run that’s paid for by card with no pre-tip and no delivery instructions. In the age of [global health crisis], I assume that these people want contactless delivery and won’t want to sign the receipt, thus passive-aggressively stiffing me.

I’m a little miffed, but I go about getting all of their order together and go on my way. While I’m on the road, I’m thinking, “If they wanna stiff me, I’m gonna make ‘em do it to my face,” etc.

I get there and get the food out of the car, and I’ve got the receipt and a pen ready in my right hand. “Gonna shove this in their face and make ‘em sign it… grumble… grumble…”

I march up to what I think is the front door and knock.

It takes a second, and finally, a young lady opens the door. I’m twenty-five, and she can’t be older than I am. I can see her husband coming up behind her, and I can hear a child making noise somewhere else in the house.

Then, this young lady hands me a wad of cash.

Customer #2: “There’re five dollars for your tip.”

Me: *Stammering* “Uhhh, th-thank you very much. C-can I just get one of you to sign this real quick?”

I handed over the receipt and pen, the young lady signed it and handed it back to me, and I gave over the food.

And suddenly, I was walking back to the car with the cash and the receipt feeling like a real a**hole.

My point is: don’t judge people. Don’t judge orders by the address; you really don’t know what’s going to happen. Just give good service. Good people are going to be nice, and the rest you don’t have to worry about.