Won’t Be On Hold For Your B.S.

, , , , | Right | September 7, 2018

(I work as a delivery driver for a national pizza chain. The store hours have just ended — it was a Saturday and we close at two am on those nights). Just as I am getting ready to head out on the last delivery of the night, the phone rings.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]; I am sorry; we are closed for the night.”

Customer: “Hi, I would like to order delivery.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but our ovens are off and we are closed for the night.”

Customer: “But I called earlier and was put on hold and no one got back to me. Why didn’t you just say you were closed then?”

Me: “I’m sorry about that, ma’am. Could you tell me when you originally called?”

Customer: “I don’t know, about an hour ago.”

(We hadn’t had any calls except for the delivery I was getting ready to take in the past hour.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we haven’t had any calls in the past hour that we have had to put on hold.”

Customer: “Fine, b****.”

(The customer hangs up and I am about to leave again, and the phone rings. Different number, with a different person speaking, but I can hear the same person in the background.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]! I am sorry; we are closed for the night.”

Customer: “Yeah, I want delivery.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we are closed for the night.”

Customer: “But I was on hold forever and just finally called back. I want food!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we are closed.”

Customer: “I was on hold forever and no one came back and now you tell me you are closed? Why can’t you give me pizza?”

Me: “Sir, the ovens are turned off. We are closed. The other location in town is still open, but they will not deliver to this part of town.”

Customer: “You are no help. F*** you.”

Me: “Well, then… sorry you are a dumb-a**.”

Grinders And Parties And Breasts, Oh My!

, , , | Right | September 5, 2018

(I work in a pizza and sandwich shop in a small grocery store chain. I’m reminded every day that the town my store is in has a collective total of about fifteen brain cells. Here are just a few of the gems I hear on a regular basis.)

Customer: “How long is your thirty-inch grinder?”

Me: “It’s thirty inches long, just as the sign says.”

Customer: “But on the bottom of the sign it says, “It’s like getting five six-inch grinders!” That doesn’t add up right.”

Me: “No, five times six is thirty.”

(Another frighteningly frequent one: I am on the phone with the customer:)

Me: “What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “Can I get a large pizza with [toppings]?”

Me: “Sure, no problem. We’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

(My store only does two sizes of pizza, large, and party size. The large is a standard eighteen-inch round pizza. The party size is a large rectangular pizza that serves about ten people. The customer shows up to get her pizza.)

Customer: “This isn’t what I ordered. This is the wrong size. I wanted a large pizza.”

Me: “This is our large pizza.”

Customer: “No I wanted the big one for parties! You screwed my order up!”

Me: “You mean the party pizza. The pizza for parties.”

(And another that I got in trouble for, for making the joke the first time it happened.  A customer comes up to the sandwich shop register:)

Customer: “I want three drumsticks, please.”

Me: “Sure, no problem. Let me grab them for you.”

(I walk over to the fried chicken case and grab a bag, and notice the customer has followed me over there.)

Customer: *pointing at the drumsticks through the glass* “It’s those ones right there.”

Me: *picks up a breast with my tongs* “You mean it’s not these ones?”

(The customer demanded to see the manager. I got yelled at for being rude, to appease the customer, then got praised for the good joke and told not to do it again.)

Delivering You The Criminals

, , , , , | Legal | August 9, 2018

The delivery area for a [National Pizza Chain] store I worked at was rather diverse, with two overlapping gang territories closest to the store, a business district at the northern boundary, middle-class housing to the south, and high-end housing to the west.

One night, I had a delivery to an upper-middle-class development, a house I’d delivered to in the past. But when I got there, all the lights were off inside. I went ahead and got out and knocked anyway, given the location, and the door was opened a few inches by a shabbily-dressed teenager. It was a rather snobbish family that I knew to live there and I doubted this person would be associated with them. A car drove past before he said anything and he ducked behind the door frame as it went by before opening the door far enough to pay and take the pizza. When he did I could hear more hushed voices coming from another dark room.

Once I was back in my car and was driving away, I called the police to report a potential burglary in progress. And it turns out it was. It boggled my mind that someone would order pizza while committing a crime. But, people hide nothing from the delivery driver, so I brushed it off and went on with life expecting that would be the end of it.

However, two weeks later I delivered to the same development, but a different house… and the same teenager in a house I knew wasn’t his. I called the cops again, and again it was indeed a burglary in progress.

While not my favorite delivery story from the three years I spent doing so, it remains one that never fails to leave me shaking my head at the stupidity of some criminals.

I’m Bringing Pizza Back

, , , , , | Right | August 7, 2018

(I work in a busy pizza shop in a college town. On a Friday night, a young woman makes a carry-out order for seven pizzas. It is picked up without incident, but later we get a call from the customer’s friend.)

Customer: “Hi, my friend ordered an extra pizza by accident; we only meant to get six pizzas. We’d like a refund, please.”

Me: “Okay, if you bring it back to the store, we can give you your money back for the extra pizza.”

Customer: “What? No, you’re going to send someone here to pick it up.”

Me: “I’m afraid that since this was a carry-out order, we can’t send someone to take it from you. You’ll have to bring it back yourself.”

Customer: “That’s incredibly inconvenient for me. Why can’t you just send someone?”

Me: “Because the drivers are paid through the tips and the delivery fees they get from delivery orders. Since it was a carry-out order, we can’t send a driver to go pick it up because they wouldn’t be compensated for their time, and we need them here to deliver other orders.”

Customer: “Well, then, I’ll keep the pizza, but you’re going to give me a refund.”

Me: “I can’t give you a refund if you keep the pizza. That would just be giving away a free pizza; I would get in trouble.”

Customer: “Then you’re going to give me a free pizza next time I order for making me go out of my way.”

Me: *starting to get angry* “Ma’am, you accidentally ordered an extra pizza and we made it exactly the way you ordered it. If you want your money back, you have to give the food back to us; we’re not just going to give you a refund. And we certainly can’t give you a free pizza because you made a mistake in your order.”

Customer: “So, you made a mistake and you won’t even take responsibility?”

Me: “We didn’t make a mistake; you ordered the pizza and we made it exactly how you asked for it. You then picked it up and brought it home.”

Customer: “This is unbelievably inconvenient. I’m just going to send someone to give you guys the pizza, but you’ll never get an order from me again!”

(She never sent the pizza back.)

A Hot Slice Of Confusion

, , , , , | Right | August 6, 2018

Customer: “Excuse me, but you’re out of cooked pizzas out front. Are you making any more today?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am! As a matter of fact, if you look behind me here, you’ll see that my coworker is slicing some fresh pizzas right now!”

(I point right at my coworker standing right next to a tall rack of pizzas. The customer goes wide-eyed.)

Customer: “So, you’re not making any more?!”

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