Deep Ditz Pizza, Part 2

| AZ, USA | Working | December 22, 2012

Employee: “Hi, [pizza place], what can I get for you today?”

My Friend: “We’ll have a large pizza with green pepper, tomatoes, and onions. Then, on one side, add olives, and on the other side, add mushrooms.”

Employee: “Okay, so… what do you want on it?”

My Friend: “Er… well, on the entire pizza, we’d like green pepper, tomato, and onion…”

Employee: “Okay.”

My Friend: “Then, on one side, add olives…”

Employee: “Alright.”

My Friend: “…and on the OTHER side, mushrooms.”

(There is a 20 second pause on the other end of the phone while the employee processes this request.)

Employee: “…mushrooms…”

(Of course, when we picked up our pizza, it had mushrooms on the entire thing.)

Deep Ditz Pizza

Extra Light On The Common Sense

, | Florida, USA | Working | December 12, 2012

(A local pizza parlor is having a $5 special for medium pizzas.)

Me: “Hi, I’d like a medium cheese pizza with light sauce.”

Cashier: “That will be $6.”

Me: “The special says medium pizzas are $5, not $6.”

Cashier: “Yeah, but toppings are $1 extra.”

Me: “I didn’t order any toppings.”

Cashier: “Yes, you did. You ordered light sauce.”

Me: “So, you want to charge me more for putting less sauce on my pizza?”

Cashier: “Yeah.”

(I ended up just getting it with regular sauce as to not cause a fuss.)

Mall Roads Lead To Home

| California, USA | Working | November 19, 2012

(I live in a housing complex that is a bit hard to navigate through. When we order pizza, we are usually able to direct the delivery driver without any problems. This driver, however, seems to be a bit slow.)

Delivery Driver: *on the phone* “So, like, I saw the cross streets are, like, First and Main? So, I’m like, at First and Grand, and I don’t see it.”

Me: “Yeah, go west down Main and turn onto [side street]. Once you’re there, tell me and I’ll give you directions. It’s kind of tricky.”

Delivery Driver: “Umm, west? Like, left or right?”

Me: “Uh… back toward [pizza place].”

Delivery Driver: “Oh, haha! Okay… okay, I’m like, here, I think.”

Me: “Okay, once you enter the complex, turn left and follow that road around until you’re facing north. I’ll meet you outside.”

Delivery Driver: “North? Like, left or right?”

Me: “North, as in, facing the freeway.”

Delivery Driver: “Umm…”

Me: “You’re essentially following the road around to the back of the complex. You’ll be facing the freeway on-ramp, and I’ll be outside.”

Delivery Driver: “Okay, so like, a right? I see a bunch of mailboxes.”

Me: “Oh, that’s the wrong way.. Turn around and make a right on the first street you see…”

(This continues until I realize she’s left the complex entirely and is back on the main road. Frustrated, my boyfriend takes the phone from me and tries directing her.)

My Boyfriend: “Okay, so turn left into the complex, make the first left and follow that around until you’re facing the mall.”

Delivery Driver: *lightbulb goes on* “OH! Like, the mall? Oh, okay! Totally!”

(With “the mall” advice, she was at our door in less than three minutes!)

These Customers Are Mostly Harmless

| Western Australia, Australia | Right | November 5, 2012

Me: “Good evening, welcome to [pizza store]. How can I help you this evening?”

Customer: “Just a Meat Lover’s on the regular base, thanks.”

Me: “Not a problem. It should be ready in ten to fifteen minutes. Can I just have a name for the order?”

Customer: *politely* “No.”

Me: “…Sorry?”

Customer: “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

(The customer’s friend looks a bit annoyed at the customer, like he’s done this before, but doesn’t offer a name either.)

Me: “Well, it’s busy tonight and I may not be the one giving out the pizza, so if there isn’t a name they may not know whose pizza it is.”

Customer: “I just don’t want my name on the computer.”

Me: “Well, I could put a fake name down instead?”

Customer: *rolls his eyes, and then replies* “Fine, just put down Slartibartfast.

Me: “…Slartibartfast?”

Customer: “I told you it didn’t matter!”

(He then walks off before I can reply to his name; I’m a huge fan of Douglas Adams myself. When his pizza comes out, I call out his name.)

Me: “Slartibartfast and the hoopy frood Zaphod Beeblebrox?”

(Both men laugh as they collect the pizza. The next time they came back, it was a pizza for Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect!)

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Giving Bad Managers A Pizza Your Mind

| Orlando, FL, USA | Working | October 1, 2012

(I worked a high school summer job at a place that emphasizes fast carry out. Our official corporate policy is to discard pizzas after 30 minutes. However, our manager always wants us to disobey this rule.)

Me: “Hey, these pizzas have been in the heat box since open. I’m going to toss them.”

Manager: “No! You need to sell them!”

Me:  “Look, they’re like five hours old. They’re burned from being in the hot box for hours. No one can eat that.”

Manager: “Just do what I say. Give it to the next customer.”

(A customer comes with his two little kids, who seem really excited about getting pizza. I can tell this family is really poor and a $5 pizza is a big deal. I just can’t do it.)

Me: “Hey, do me a favor and look at this pizza before you take it.” *shows him the burned pizza*

Customer: “Yeah, can I have a different one?”

Me: “Of course.”

(I toss out the ruined pizza and give him a new one. My manager sees this and gets angry.)

Manager: “I told you to sell that one!”

Me: “No way. I can’t rip people off like that. I quit!”

(I wrote a letter to the owner. When I came back to pick up my last check, I found out that my manager had been fired!)

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