Acting Totally Incremental

| TX, USA | Right | October 15, 2013

(I am out on delivery late at night. The customer to whom I am delivering has been very drunk on the phone. When I arrive at his house, he stumbles outside to meet me, pulling out his wallet. A girl follows him outside.)

Me: “Mr. [Name]?”

Drunken Customer: “Yep, that’s me.”

Me: “Here you are, sir! Your total this evening will be $46.70!”

Drunken Customer: “Okay. Here you go.”

(The customer hands me $70.)

Me: “Of course, sir; let me get your change.”

(I hand back a twenty dollar bill and three ones, but he won’t take it.)

Drunken Customer: “Nope. No change. That’s your $5 tip right there.”

Me: “Um, yes, sir, I appreciate it very much, but—”

Drunken Customer: “No, no, no. Listen. 46 and whatever is like 47, right?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Drunken Customer: “Well, fifty minus forty-seven is this three, right?” *points to the three $1 bills*

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Drunken Customer: “That leaves the two and the zero.” *points at the $20 bill* “And two plus zero is two, and then plus the other $3, and two plus three is five, and that’s your $5 tip!”

Girl: “Just take it and go. He thinks he’s good at math when he’s drunk.”

Me: “Thank you very much, sir! Have a wonderful evening!”

Drunken Customer: “Don’t spend all your $5 in one place!”

(He is the best tipping customer of the night! When I get back to the store, my manager can’t believe how thoroughly the customer explained his math!)

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Hold The Garlic Bread

| NY, USA | Right | August 1, 2013

(I work the late shift at a pizza parlor, and am taking over delivery for a sick coworker instead of working the register as I usually do. I cycle up to the apartment that’s listed on the bill and knock on their door. The customer doesn’t answer so I knock harder.)

Me: “Your pizza’s here!”

(The door slowly creaks open. The lights are all off, almost like a horror movie, and I take a step back in surprise.)

Me: “Uhm… hello?”

(Unnerved, I turn to get the heck out of there, when I hear something moving. I look back in the house, and some guy is standing there, nearly invisible in the dark.)

Me: “Oh, haha, I didn’t see you there. Here’s your pizza, sir. You ordered online, so you’re good to go!”

Customer: “Who darez to tahlk to ze Count in zees mannehr?!”

(I realize that he’s wearing a full Dracula costume, complete with bloody fangs and a cape. He’s staring at me with Bela Lugosi’s signature death glare.)

Me: “Uh… Frank, the pizza delivery guy?”

Customer: “…”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Dihd you breeng extra ov zee leetle sauce packeets for ze breedsteecks?”

Me: “Uh… yeah, yeah, they should be in the box.”

Customer: “Exceeleent! Have a vunderful night, my child!”

(The customer slams the door closed.)

Me: “What just happened?”

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I Have The Devil’s Own(er) Job

| Minneapolis, MN, USA | Working | April 18, 2013

(I’m take a call from a customer who is unhappy with his order.)

Customer: “…thank you so much for correcting this. Oh, while I have you on the phone, I just want to tell you about one more thing. The person who took my order was extremely rude to me. Just obnoxious, and unwilling to listen to me. He was awful!”

Me: “I am so sorry to hear that! If I could just look up the name of the order taker…”

(I look it up. Of course, it’s the owner.)

Me: “Oh… I’ll be sure to relay that back to the manager.”

Customer: “You know, I’ve dealt with your manager before and he just isn’t very forgiving at all. Could you tell the owner about that?”

Me: “Well… I’m sorry to say this sir, but it was actually the owner who took your order.”

Customer: “Well, my condolences!”

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Give Liars A Pizza Your Mind

| Northern VA, USA | Working | March 18, 2013

(A pizza delivery guy sped through our neighborhood, ran a stop sign and rammed my daughter’s car. He hit her so hard that he pushed her across the intersection, damaging a neighbor’s fence and a street sign. In an attempt to cover his tracks, he hid his pizza company sign in his trunk, and lied to the police about who owned the car, the insurance, and even whom he worked for. I finally tracked down the owner of the pizza company.)

Me: “Hello, this is [my name], and I’m [daughter’s name]’s mother. Your delivery man rammed my daughter when he was speeding and ran a stop sign in our neighborhood, and then he lied about what company he worked for. He said he didn’t own the car, and he lied about his insurance.”

Owner: “Oh, yes. We’ve been trying to get information about that. He’s supposed to have insurance!”

Me:  “Well, it seems he doesn’t. It looks like he bought the car from this guy, and he says he doesn’t know the guy. However, they’re Facebook friends, and the title is still in the other guy’s name.”

Owner: “They both work for me! Of course he knows the guy; they work together!”

Me: “Well, it seems he doesn’t have insurance, and I’m sure you don’t want my daughter to end up owning your company, so I’m sure we can come to an equitable arrangement before I have to go to a lawyer about this.”

Owner: ” Certainly. I’ve already been in touch with my insurance company and we just need the details.”

Me: “And did you know that he damaged a homeowner’s fence and a street sign?”

Owner: “…No. Wow.”

Me: “The thing that really got me is that the first thing he did, after the crash, was not to check on the girls in the car to see if they were all right. The first thing he did was to borrow a neighbor’s cell phone so that he could call his job because he didn’t want to get in trouble with his job. That’s all he was worried about.”

Owner: “Well, he won’t have to worry about that any more!”

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We Love To Deep Dish On Bad Customers

| UT, USA | Right | January 10, 2013

(It is five minutes to closing at our store when the phone rings. Policy requires that we answer until 11:30 during winter hours. I pick up and my friend and manager stands behind me.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [store location]. What can I do for you tonight?”

Customer: “I need two pan pizzas with sausage and pepperoni.”

(I put the order in on the computer and look to the clock. It is now three minutes to close.)

Me: “All right, sir. I’m going to have to put this in for carry-out, as we close in three minutes.”

Customer: “Uh, no. I want it for delivery.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. We close at 11:30.”

Customer: “Well the internet says you close at midnight. I want delivery.”

Me: “Again, I can’t do that. We have cleanup to do, and we close in one minute. We are also on the winter schedule, and close a half hour earlier than summer hours.”

Customer: “That’s f***ing stupid!”

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t have you speak to me that way. If you like, you can speak to my manager about it. She’s standing right here, and has heard this entire conversation.”

(He settles down. It is now after 11:30.)

Customer: “Can’t you call it carry-out and just bring it to me?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Can I send you a picture of the web page?”

Me: “You can, but it won’t make a difference. This is policy, sir.”

Customer: “Fine! F*** you!”

(He hangs up. I smile and put the phone down.)

Manager: “He was pleasant.”

Me: “I love people like that.”

Manager: “Why?”

Me: “They give me stories to tell.”

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