Me: “Thank you for calling [Pizza Store] in [Town]. This is [My Name]. Would you like to hear the specials today?”

Caller: “Is this the [Pizza Store] in [Town]?”

Me: “Yes…”

Caller: “Ya’ll got any specials?”

(We live in a small town and every Tuesday our local pizza place has a special on calzones, so we always get our usual. One girl taking phone orders always remembers our names. She also knows the sound of our truck as it pulls up to the restaurant. This time our neighbor asks us to pick up his order as well. This happens as we pick up our order.)

Girl: “Oh, my gosh, you won’t believe this!”

Me: “What? What is it?”

Girl: “I had never known anyone with your name before because it’s so different and guess what? Someone else has your name in our small town! And they ordered a pizza tonight, of all nights! Isn’t that so weird?!”

Me: “Actually that’s our neighbor. He put it under our name so we could pick it up.”

Girl: “Oh.” *slightly sad* “Well that was fun while it lasted. And FYI I didn’t write your name on that box, just this one.” *all smiles again*

(She shows one box with the correct spelling of our name, the one she wrote, and then one that doesn’t even come close, that someone else did.)

Me: “Thank you. We’ll let you know if anyone else does in fact have the same name as us in the future.”

(I work at a pizza place that has a delivery service that prides themselves on having your food to you in under an hour. When I enter an order in the computer, I need to click pickup or delivery because the computer charges a fee for delivery orders.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Restaurant] tonight! Will this be pickup or delivery?”

Customer: “I want two large [expensive pizzas].”

Me: “Certainly, will that be pickup or delivery?”

Customer: “I also want a medium all cheese with onions and half olives.”

Me: “Sure, will this be pickup or delivery?”

Customer: “I also want a garden salad with extra tomatoes.”

Me: “Sir, I need to know if you’d like pickup or delivery?”

Customer: “Can you read back my order?”

Me: Sure, did you want this for pickup or delivery? Two large [expensive pizzas]. One medium all cheese with onions and half olives. And one garden salad with extra tomatoes. It’ll be $53.50 for pickup, or $55.50 for delivery. Which would you like?”

Customer: “Perfect! This is John Smith, see you soon!” *hangs up*

Me: *sighs*

Coworker: “John Smith?”

Me: “Yeah…”

Coworker: “Today is Friday, it’s 4:30. He does this every week. He wants delivery, 123 Main Street. He refuses to tell us every time he orders because he can call and scream at us when it’s not delivered on time, and the manager will give him the order free ‘for the trouble.’”

Me: “Wow, thanks!”

Coworker: “No problem, I hate that a**-hole.”

(The order got to John Smith with time to spare. He had to pay, and had no reason to call and complain. Next Friday at 4:30, he didn’t call.)

(We have school contracts at our restaurant that allows schools to buy pizza at a reduced price for resale. One such school has been calling every single order to complain, and giving us trouble every week, usually about them missing pizza. Finally, our district manager decides to deliver the pizzas personally, to make sure everything is right this time. Soon, we get this call.)

School: “Hi, I was calling because your driver left the pizza bags here. Were you going to pick them up?”

(Curious about why our manager would leave the expensive bags there, we wait for her to come back to ask.)

District Manager: “Oh, that? They asked me if I had an hour to wait for them to count the pizzas. I said ‘nope’ and walked out.”

Assistant Manager: “Why would it take them an hour to count 40 pizzas?”

District Manager: “Honestly? I don’t think they can count…”

(I’m delivering a pizza. An elderly woman answers the door. She opens the door part way, and it catches on one of her crutches. She struggles a little and manages to maneuver herself to get the door open. I see a cast on one ankle.)

Customer: “I’m sorry. I broke my ankle yesterday, and I’m still learning how to get around on these things.”

(She doesn’t appear to be in pain, or anything. Just obviously unfamiliar with the crutches.)

Me: “Aww, that’s too bad. Hopefully a pizza will help. That’ll be [price].”

(She starts fumbling with her purse while trying to balance on the crutches. Pretty quickly she is able to get to her cash. I give her the change. At this point, I can see her trying to figure out how she’s going to carry the pizza with her crutches.)

Me: “Would you like me to bring the pizza in for you?”

Customer: *immediate look of relief* “Could you just put it right here on the coffee table for me?”

Me: “No problem.”

Customer: “That’s very nice of you.”

(The table is just a few steps inside the house. I set the pizza down and turn to go.)

Customer: “Hold on a moment. Please, let me give you a tip.”

(She reaches into her change purse and pulls out a single quarter and hands it to me. I can tell that she doesn’t tip very often, and that she sincerely thinks that the tip she’s giving me is a pretty big deal.)

Me: “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

(I could tell that she meant well, so I smiled and accepted the token in the spirit that she intended.)