This Will Make Sense In The End

, , , , , , | Related | February 14, 2019

(I live in Georgia and work in a “New York Style” pizzeria. I’ve been there for years and have come across many customers that insist our pizza is the greatest thing since sliced bread, and some that, well, don’t. I’m working a double this particular day and it’s after the lunch rush when we’re pretty slow. A middle-aged woman with blonde hair comes in, places an order to go, and takes it back out to her car, but she doesn’t leave. About ten minutes pass and she comes storming back into the store.)

Woman: “What is this s***?!”

Me: *startled* “I’m sorry? What can I help you with?”

Woman: “This! This s***! I am from New York and I can tell you this is some primo-grade horse s***!”

Me: “Um, I’m sorry to hear that you don’t like it. Is it the pizza itself? Was it under- or over-cooked?”

Woman: “I just got off a plane with my husband and wanted something decent to eat. I can’t believe you call this—“ *mockingly* “—NEW YORK STYLE!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that it wasn’t up to your standards, and I’d like to make this right. If you tell me what I can do to help you, we can work from there.”

Woman: *bellowing* “I WILL HAVE YOUR JOB! GET ME YOUR F****** MANAGER NOW!”

(My manager, [Manager #1], is in his office and I pull him to the front, then I go hide in the back kitchen until the angry woman leaves. When [Manager #1] returns, he tells me that he ended up just refunding her food, and my job was safe from “entitled crazies.” About an hour later, there’s a shift change, and [Manager #2] comes in. I inform him that I’m covering a couple of shifts later that week, and today is a double-shift. He tells me that if the evening shift is slow, he will plan to send me home early since I’m getting close to overtime; I happily agree. About 7:30 rolls around.)

Manager #2: “[My Name]! Want to go home now? I don’t think it’s busy enough that we’ll need you.”

(Excitedly, I gather my things and clock out. It just so happens that my dad has recently found out that his father — my grandfather — is not biologically related to him, and my dad, using one of those DNA tests from an online ancestry network, managed to track down his half-brother! My uncle is coming to Georgia to meet us and I managed to get off of work early enough to stop by my parents’ house to meet them! Now, don’t beat me to the punch.)

Me: *walking into my parents’ house, calling out* “Hey! I managed to get out early!”

(I walked into the living room and saw a man that looked creepily similar to my father, and a familiar blonde woman. The woman’s jaw dropped, and as I imagined, so did mine. The woman was fairly quiet for the rest of the evening. While I was in the kitchen doing dishes, the angry-customer-that-was-actually-my-aunt sneaked in and embarrassedly apologized to me. My aunt and I never did develop a close relationship, though my uncle comes to visit once or twice a year from their home in New Jersey. I eventually opted not to mention to my dad my previous encounter with his sister-in-law. Also, it turns out my uncle thought the pizza was great!)

No Such Thing As Too Much Pizza, But We See Her Point

, , , , , | Working | February 12, 2019

(I place an order for pizza delivery, specifying the delivery time as 8:00 pm, two hours after the order is placed, so I can be sure that I have the kids in bed by the time the delivery arrives. I also leave a note making it super clear to come after 8:00 pm and to not knock on the front door but to call when the delivery was here. I’m in the middle of reading a bedtime story to my two-year-old at around 6:30 pm when there’s a loud bang at the door. I so hope it isn’t, but alas, it is the pizza guy.)

Delivery Man: “Order for [My Name].”

Me: “Yes, I did place an order… for an hour and a half from now.”

Delivery Man: “Yes, I am early for you. It is good, yes?”

Me: “No, not really. Sorry, but I ordered ahead on purpose because I’m in the middle of putting my kids to bed. I don’t really want this pizza right now; I wanted it after 8:00 pm.”

(I show him the note on the receipt asking them to please not show up early.)

Delivery Man: “I am early! Early is better! Not late!”

Me: *tired of the back and forth* “Okay, well, I’ll obviously take the pizza because I don’t want you to have to come back out again. Obviously, some wires got crossed somewhere. You have a good evening now!”

(I put the pizza in the oven to keep it warm and finish bedtime. I give the pizza place a quick call to explain what happened. I’m not trying to get anything free; I just like this particular pizza place so I would like this to not happen in the future. The owner is super apologetic, says they were busy and didn’t take the time to read a note, and he says the next time I order it’s on the house. I insist that isn’t necessary, just to check the notes when I order, please. I enjoy my pizza. Just as I finish eating, there is another loud knock at the door. It’s the same delivery guy.)

Delivery Man: “I have pizza for you; boss man said it’s on the house!”

(He has the exact same order again.)

Me: “Oh, I really don’t need another pizza! I’ve just finished eating the one you brought earlier. Thank you for coming out but I don’t want to take the pizza.”

Delivery Man: “No, no, it’s okay; boss man said it’s okay.”

Me: “Yeah, I understand, but I don’t need another pizza; I still have half a pizza. Honestly, it will just be too much pizza in the house.”

Delivery Man: “No, don’t worry! It’s okay! Boss man said it’s for you! It’s fine!”

Me: *exasperated, takes order* “Thank you. Have a good evening.”

(Why on earth would I want a duplicate order the exact same evening?)

A Dream Is A Wish Your Stomach Makes

, , , , , , | Working | January 1, 2019

(I enjoy feeding friends, and I often bring snacks into work. Some snacks are more memorable than others.)

Coworker: “When are you going to bring fudge in again?”

Me: “Which type?”

Coworker: “The peanut butter, tiger-swirled one.”

Me: *grinning* “I’ve been thinking about it.”

Coworker: “I’ve been dreaming about it.”

(It’s probably time to bring it in again. Soon.)

Will Take A Pizza Your Mind

, , , , , , | Working | December 17, 2018

(It is before online ordering and paying with a card over the phone is a thing. I am a junior in high school and have just started doing some random things around the neighborhood, such as mowing lawns, for a little bit of extra cash. One Saturday night, after seeing my brother with a pizza with all meat, I decide I want one, as well. I order the same exact pizza about an hour after he ordered his. This being the small town that it is, there is exactly ONE pizza place which has delivery and is a large chain. The local, and generally better, pizza places don’t deliver and have already closed for the night. After ordering the pizza, I sit down to play some video games and keep checking the time… 30 minutes, no pizza… 45 minutes, no pizza… one hour, no pizza… So I call back.)

Employee: “[Pizza Place]. This is [Employee]. How can I help you?”

Me: “Uh… Yeah…” *gives order and address* “I ordered about an hour ago and it hasn’t arrived. Just wondering how much longer it should take?”

Employee: “Uh… Well, the delivery driver already went out with the orders, so I’ll check when he gets back and find out what’s going on. If he doesn’t show up in another fifteen minutes, call us back.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

(At this point it’s only thirty minutes before they close for the rest of the night, so I’m worried. Fifteen minutes pass by and still nothing, so I call back.)

Employee: “[Pizza Place]. This is [Employee]. How can I help you?”

Me: “Uh, yeah, I called earlier about [pizza and address], but it never arrived.”

Employee: “The driver said he already delivered that pizza, and your order was [gives time from over two hours ago].”

Me: “No… That was for my brother. I ordered the same thing about an hour later. It was literally a different order. His name is [Brother] and mine was for [My Name].”

Employee: *talks to someone in the background* “No, the person who makes the pizza said there was that order at [two hours ago] and it was delivered.”


Employee: “Don’t call here again.” *hangs up*

(I’ve never been a huge confrontational person, but I never pass it up when I know I’m in the right, so I call back. The employee answers the same way as always.)

Me: “Do NOT EVER hang up on me! I told you that YOU ARE WRONG, and I’m just asking to get the dinner I ordered!”

Employee: “I told you it was already ordered and delivered. Stop trying to get something for free!”

Me: “I DO NOT WANT SOMETHING FREE! I just want my order!”

(My mother and stepfather have come into my room because they hear me shouting over the phone. I have my own phone line I pay for, as well, in my room, because to access the Internet at this time you have to dial in and it ties up the phone lines.)

Employee: “If you call back, I’m calling the cops!”


(The employee hung up on me again. I told my mother and stepfather what was going on and my stepfather, a gentleman who would give you the last sip of water in the desert even if you had a full canteen beforehand, told me he would take care of it and called from the main house line. He started off speaking with the person on the phone… and ended up bringing down the wrath of God on these people. It was seriously the first time I had EVER heard my stepfather become ENRAGED. He explained how there were two people in the house with the same last name, but completely different first names, how the orders were over an hour apart, how people could order something to the same address after ordering something previously, and how he didn’t give a d*** that they’d turned the ovens off five minutes ago; if that pizza wasn’t at the house in thirty minutes he was going to drive over there himself and cook it. They did make the pizza, and it was there promptly, but the delivery driver decided to open his mouth. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but my stepfather, a skinny man standing 6’2” over this kid, let him know his displeasure and unacceptable behavior wouldn’t be let off so easily and slammed the door. On Monday, I learned from one of my friends that his mother just started as the new general manager of said pizza place. I immediately let her know what happened. When she ran the reports for the Saturday this happened, she learned they “tossed it out” thinking it was “just a duplicate.” I guess everyone working that night who had a hand in it got written up.)

We Could Give You Your Raw Dough Since That’s All We Can Make In Five Minutes

, , , | Right | December 13, 2018

(I’m in a local pizza parlor. I have just stopped at the grocery store next door for some things, so rather than get delivery, I am just going to bring the pizza home. While waiting for it to be finished, another customer comes storming in.)

Customer: “Where’s my d*** pizzas?!”

(The girl at the register looks startled, but I half-hear the guys in the back say something like, “Not again.”)

Worker: “I’m sorry, what name was it ordered under?”

Customer: “The same name I always order it under, and you always take too d*** long!

Worker: “I really am sorry that it took too long, but we’re very busy, and we’ve been telling everyone orders will be at least forty-five minutes to an hour.”

Customer: “Yeah, I know, and that’s too long! I’ve been waiting at least that much! Where’s my order for [several pizzas]?!”

(One of the guys making the pizzas pipes up.)

Cook: “Probably at your front door; the driver left with it about three minutes ago.”

Customer:Bull! I know you lazy b*****ds are just standing around and—”

(Right on cue, his cell phone goes off. He answers angrily and stomps around the eating area while yelling back and forth. While he is doing so, the owner of the business comes out of the back.)

Customer: “I demand to be compensated for this!”

Owner: “No. Every two weeks you pull this nonsense, and every two weeks we tell you the same thing; you’re not getting free pizza because you think you’re special and we’ll magically make five pizzas in half the time it takes to make one! Especially in the middle of the football playoffs!”

Customer: “That’s what these are for; we’re trying to watch it at my house!”

Me: “These guys make some of the best pizza I’ve ever had; are you actually surprised that they get busy, especially at a time like this?! If you know it’s going to take an hour to get to you, then order an hour sooner! Stop making those of us that want to order look bad, and use your d*** head!”

(The customer didn’t get his free pizza, had to wait for the driver to get back, and took it home himself. I got a fist-bump from one of the cooks, and the owner handed me a bottle of soda; apparently being a regular that helps out is a better way to get stuff than being a jacka**!)

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