Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Centurion1

I always tip. My tips are always a solid 15-20% However, I will admit there have been times when my tips have been like a quarter left over because I literally dug around my dorm for quarters. I am always ashamed by this and usually apologize. Even if I have :daisy: service I usually leave a tip. I am disgusted by people who do not tip and once had a huge argument in a nice japanese restaurant with a friend over it. I have noticed that many of my female friends are often prone to make up a snarky reason for why they do not want to tip while my male friends will just shrug their shoulders and say yeah it is douchey but I am a cheap bastard. While i am a cheap bastard i am not that cheap.

I regard not tipping as a lack of class to be perfectly honest and many of atpg's stories simply reinforce my belief.

---

Well, don't beat yourself up over it too badly about missing a tip here or there, and here's why.

First of all, I am used to people not tipping me. As I mentioned elsewhere, depending on the night, some 50% or more of my customers will not tip. It takes a lot for someone to stand out in my mind, because you'd become just another name and address among thousands. It sucks but I get over it, and sometimes I'm out on a double run, which means if the other person remembered to tip, and I got the gas money from that run, then I also got the gas money from your run, and the gas money for your run doesn't go to gas. Now, it's not okay, and it wouldn't be okay if everyone did it, because then all I would ever get is gas money, and an extra dollar for every double. That works out to an income after expenses of 5-6 dollars an hour on average. So, no, that's not cool. But, once in a while, I can manage it, and it won't kill me.

In order to stand out in my mind, you have to be the person that never tips, ever, and you'd still have to order often enough for me to notice. But the mind is a learning machine and a remembering machine. When I see the same house over and over again and I experience the same negative reaction of "I'm wasting my time", it doesn't take too long before I remember "oh yeah, this is the guy who has stiffed me some 4-5 times in a row, for no reason, because there's never been a complaint and our service isn't that bad, and I've never been discourteous to the guy, and he always is upbeat and thanks me for my time."

So, you'd have to be the one out of 5 or ten customers who is a habitual never-tipper. Or, you'd have to have intentionally treated me like total garbage for no reason, such as yelling and cussing me out when there's nothing wrong with your food. I've had people put on an act in front of me, like they can show me a pizza which looks picture perfect, and say there's something wrong with it. "It's too thin and overdone!"

"That is our thin and crispy style crust, it's possible the order taker was mistaken. Did you mean to order a hand-tossed instead, and got a thin and crispy?"

"No, it's just too thin and too crispy!"

(Of course, the thin crust is factory made, they are all EXACTLY the same size and we do not alter the sizes. The oven is a conveyor belt kind of oven with the temperature set exactly. That means the crust will always be exactly that thin, and exactly that crispy, unless you want it well done, where we put it back in the oven for a few minutes.)

So yeah, the "thin and crispy crust" is thin and crispy. That's worth dropping f-bombs on the driver over. That's the kind of stuff that will make me remember you, and dread having to deliver to you next time.

You forget a tip one time or two times, I won't even notice. And, if you're one of the customers who always tips, as you say, likely I will remember that, and will believe your explanation that you didn't have enough money this time. That's fine, it happens! I have been a driver, then done other kinds of work, and ordered a pizza, and had only enough to tip a dollar or two due to my own poor planning. But I told the driver I used to be a driver, and that I usually tipped better, I felt bad, and that I would be sure to tip them well next time, and they knew I wasn't lying, because they delivered to me often.

Frankly, if they don't accept that explanation anyway, they're a bad driver. Take it from me.

The only time we wouldn't believe you is if we remembered that you have never once tipped us the many many times we've delivered, and you've given that excuse more than once before. That's when it's perfectly all right in my mind to say "I'm sorry sir, I've heard that before, and continued promises of being paid for my time do not help me pay my rent."

After all, the customer is the one who brought up the tip just to rub it in my face that they weren't tipping. That's just asking for trouble. It wasn't in any way a legitimate apology.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Centurion1

Soldiers have fantastic benefits hahahaha. Like seriously benefits are superb. Which really helps compensate for the low pay. Not to mention the fact that promotion is an actual possibility and most likely going to happen. Also most privates aren't trying to provide for an entire family (though obviously plenty do have a young wife or even a family to support) so living in barracks and eating chow food is very possible. Though I will note that danger pay is not as high as many people think it is. Actually depressingly low when you consider what exactly danger is.

---

Truth be told, you can't get paid enough when your job description is "stand somewhere and hold your ground while people are trying to murder you".

There just isn't enough money in the world. I'm very glad they get benefits, and for all my talk of spending too much on the military and the wars, I'm referring to no-bid contracts and continued orders for military vehicles which are not in demand and just get sold off to foreign governments because the military doesn't want or need them. I'm not talking about cutting soldier pay. I'd probably use most of those cuts and just give it right to the soldiers.

It still wouldn't be enough, not for a long shot, but it would be our way of saying thank you for what they do. It's the least our government can do, and maybe the idea of giving most of the cost savings to the soldiers would make it politically more popular to cut wasteful military spending programs, but I digress from the thread topic. Another place and another time, perhaps.

I'm anxious to hear MRD's stories, because I've read the ones on tipthepizzaguy.com and shared the ones I've had with the drivers at the three stores I've worked at. It is funny how universal these stories are. I haven't even gotten to the really sad or scary ones, which would be less entertaining, like the ones where there's one order on the screen just as the store is closing up shop, but the manager offers to take the order himself, and the driver hasn't made much in tips, and asks to take the order, and the driver doesn't come back because he was shot and killed on that delivery.

Then the manager is stuck with guilt for something they didn't even do wrong, and a family grieves. It's not pleasant.

Hazardous duty pay is $250 per month, no matter your rank and regardless if you sit on a FOB or live on a mountain.
Substandard housing pay is $150 per month regardless if you live in a hole or stay in a nice barracks on a nice FOB.
Thats $400 more dollars for being at war. I feel like such a profiteer.

Firstly, thanks ATPG, this has been a great read that I was planning on skimming over but read every word. If you ever decide to deliver to Wales I'll make sure I tip well and even front you a couple of vodka and Irn Bru's after your shift.

Secondly, you need a new job bud, your people skills are obviously first class and you're writing is pretty good so I have no doubt you could do better. Whereas my people skills suck and I have been, shall we say advised, that talking to people more senior to me as if they were senile is not a good way to get ahead, I'll never make a politician although I'm convinced the world wouild be a better place if I was.

Seriously though, get a new job, I'm sure you're more than capable of bigger and better things.

Writing might not be such a bad idea at all, you obviously enjoy it. People love these small absurdities, worked for the 'The Nanny Diaries'. An intellectual pizza delivering-guy in a crackhead ghetto, pure win if you add some irony and amazement

edit: got it. If you let all these things happen in the hub that is absurdities in your own life you might have a book. Read 'The Nanny Diary's' if you haven't, does exactly that

I assume Askthepizzaguy has read Snow Crash?

I worked the counter at a pharmacy when I was in high school. And I swore I would never work a job where I had to deal with people off the street ever again. People, in general, suck, and that's a good lesson to learn as a 16 year old.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Major Robert Dump

Hazardous duty pay is $250 per month, no matter your rank and regardless if you sit on a FOB or live on a mountain.
Substandard housing pay is $150 per month regardless if you live in a hole or stay in a nice barracks on a nice FOB.
Thats $400 more dollars for being at war. I feel like such a profiteer.

---

Don't they vary for rank? I didn't know about substandard housing pay.

Actually, we don't get substandard housing, thats Air Force, and they live far better than us.

I was thinking sustinence allowance. It's for having to buy things here that would be provided back home. And it is the same for everyone.

Basic Housing Allowance varies by rank but also varies by size of the family and location of the housing. Single people get screwed. Having a spouse will raise ones monhtly pay greatly, kids even more so. When I was a married E4 I make more than I do as a single Lueteneant.

right i know about housing allowances. my father got it obviously and if you live in barracks thats like your housing allowance right?

yeah. and theres "hardship duty" pay which is the same for everyone. Not including the BAH, all this adds up t @ $550 per month give or take, for being in a war zone. I'm gettin rich!

Moar job-related horror tales, plox.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Askthepizzaguy

Moar job-related horror tales, plox.

---

Well I can add specifics, gun ad head, and I'm the proud owner of two stab-wounds. Also headbutted someone out of the office after he threatened to kill me and as it turned out he was from the same goatvillage as the guy who put a gun to my head. Weird job.

Well, I haven't had much real horro-stories, but I've had funny situations in my jobs too.

I was working in a call center, trying to sell people alarm systems and the reasons I got for not getting one were really funny sometimes.

One guy said, he'd always leave the door open as he didn't want the lock broken by someone who would try to get in. He said he had a shotgun and a dog and whoever came in would not get out in one piece.

Another guy told me he was absolutely sure that burglars were always picking houses with alarm systems because that's where they are the least expected and so he didn't want an alarm system...

Age 16: Grocery sacker at a union grocery store. It actually wasn't all that bad, other than the union part. Even at age 16, I could figure out who the douchebags were who abused their 4-day seniority over the next guy down. But whatever.

I often forget about the job I had age 17-18 because much of it was truamatic. From age 17-18 I worked at McDonalds. But I had a different type of gig. Yeah, I worked grill and counter a few times a week, and make no mistake -- it sucked. But the other 20 hours a week -- especially on the weekends -- I was a McDonalds Birthday Clown.

Birthday Clown part I
I always wanted a McDonalds birthday party, but my parents would never do it. Turns out, it wasn't that expensive. And boy did it show in the props, toys, prizes and refreshments that were provided. Now maybe some McDonalds have really nice stuff, but not in South Ghetto Lawton, Oklahoma.

So this McDonalds is dirt. Like literally. It's a nice new building in a terrible part of town with horrible clientelle. Like putting lipstick on a pig. Probably 30% of the customers wanted something free, and thats not including the outright theft. Another 15% would try to take the food before they paid, or come back inside with cups they bouht last week and ask for a refill, or -- I loved these, McDonalds had to make a special rule just for these pigs -- the lady in the car with 8 kids from various fathers who comes through the drive thru and wants to order 9 free ice waters and nothing else. So we make a rule that you have to order food that costs something. So she orders one 59 cent cheeseburger and 9 ice waters, and she eats the burger in front of the kids because she is not just a whore, she is a whore with class. These people are the reason stores charge for cups now.

Another large portion of them were either homeless, drunks, meth addicts or crackheads who needed somewhere to bathe and hide from cops, and this was the place ot be since our store manager would not throw them out because he was scared to death of retaliation.

I'm a really good party clown. I'm usually hungover or under the influence of various other things that high schoolers experriment with. Now while you may thnk it is wrong for me to play with kids in that mental state, I ask that you consider the neighborhood in which I worked and the distinct possibility that these were the children of meth addicts, crackheads and drunks, so really, it's just like Mommy putting on a clown face and funny wig.

I made up for the lack of quality props by using the time-tested props and gags of whoopee cushions, food fights and letting kids kick me in the nuts. Usually the parents were okay with this. Occasionally I got the people who had apparently been oppressed by The Man for so long that they felt the need to come to McDonalds and target the white employees and make fun of them for their career choices, but I got that woring the counter just like I did working as a clown. It was usually something along the lines of "your parents must be proud...you're doing a good job maybe you will be promoted to french fries soon....does this job have a retirement package..." Although I must admit, the times when black party attendees did this I always thought of how funny it would be for me to go back to the dressing room and come back out as a black face clown. But I didn't. I usually just responded with something like "I'm just in high school, I'm not old enough to be in prison like your dad yet!" and then honked my nose and skipped away.

Part II
Then my store got into the business of running birthday parties at nursing homes. So, on Saturday, my "clown handler" would take me around to various nursing homes where me and another clown would attend the monthly birthday party for the home residents. Now I'm not old, but I've known some old people, and my nursing home brought in some McDonalds clown for my birthday I would be insulted. But a lot of these people were either senile, or just urting for company, and especially the company of young people. You see, I was a good looking clown, and my clown sidekick was a smokin hot Vietnamese girl. What was typically supposed to be an innocent, goofy, birthday party sometimes turned pretty filthy pretty quick.

I am one of the few people who can say he has been dry humped by a 90 year old woman named Lou. But it is something I am proud of. To be fair, the nurses warned me not to flirt back with her, but I had this joke where I wore the clown costume backwards so the puffy balls were on the front. Well, Lou told me she likes my little fuzzy balls, and I told her I bet she told that to all the clowns, and that I saw her phone number scribbled in the clown bathroom. She responded to this by standing up and humping me not unlike a Chihuaha humps a pillow.

Also, sometimes old people did not get my sense of humor, and innocent comments like "I'm gonna throw this cake in your hair unless you smile" would result in an old lady digging her claws into my arms. Lesson learned: old ladies take their hair very, very seriously. I met a lot of people who were living in the past, talked to people who experienced segregation, people who remembered the first automobile, people who still believed that one does not insult the president no matter what party he is in, people who still believed in innocence, mankind and the "American Way.". Ha. Old people.

But none of these experiences were the highlight of my McDonalds career. And in case you were wondering, yes, they did try to send me to the super secret Ronald McDonald school tryouts. Yes, there is a secret school. Yes, there is only one Ronald per region of the US. Yes, you are not allowed to tell people what you do for a living (for the most part) and when you travel you have an entourage who opens doors for you, guards the bathroom while you poop and brings you food behind closed doors because everyone knows Ronald McDonald is magis and he can walk through walls, he never eats and he doesn't poop.

But I declined, and have often regretted the decision, particularly when I later learned what the job pays. But that is probably for the better, because I am a creepy guy and would have probably ended up on television long ago as a pantsless, drunk Ronald chasing young maidens around at the medieval fair and getting tased by cops while yelling "Don't tase me little buddy" with my Big Mac exposed. So lets call that career decision better judgement.

Part III
The craziest, funniest, wierdest thing to happen to me at this job was in 1993 when McDonalds introduced the Grilled Chicken Sandwich to the Oklahoma stores. I was reminded of this incident yesterday when reading about the Gorilla who was assualted by the Bannana, although I think that was a publicity stunt.

This promotion required someone dressed in a chicken suit to stand out on the incredibly busy intersection and wave at people. Well, we don't want to have any of the stores inbred, always-late, can't cook-can't clean, too-fat-to-walk, calls in sick all the time employees do that job. Hell no, thats a job for the clown.

So there I be. Dressed a sa chicken. Things are going well, its about 150 degrees in my suit and people are honking, throwing trash at me, calling me chicken **** and all other swell things. Then out of the corner of my eye I spy 5 boys heading my way. This was a nice, diverse little group of kids of various color. They were all about 8 years old, and they were all dressed like little Michael Jordans. I saw them and was thinking "awwww, look at the little guys, all out as friends and they don't care about race or ethnicity."

About that time, the fat kid pointed at me like I was a cheeseburger trying to get away, he yelled something, and all the kids bumrushed me. At first I thought maybe they were pointing at something behind me. But no, that would have been too simple. They got right up on me and surrounded me, and the insults and threats began, peppered with a liberal dose of F-bombs and every other naughty word. They called me a dork, a loser, a retard and another word for vagina. I responded by saying EGGGGSCUSE ME????? in the most annoying, high pitched chicken voice I could muster. They told me they were going to beat me, steal my chicken suit, put me in the hospital, take my money, to which I responded YOU MUST BE YOKING?????? in the most annoying, high pitched chicken voice I could muster.

And then they started punching and kicking me. Now it really didn't really hurt, because I was, afterall, i a chicken plaster/rubber suit and their blows were kind of playful because they were laughing and giggling as they did it. But it was very difficult to keep my balance and it was quite humiliating. In retropsect, I probably should have just run inside. In retrospect, going into Psycho Chicken mode probably wasn't the best idea. But I got caught up in the moment. I was a chicken, damnit!

I raised my arms into the air, and as loud as I could while lunging forward into the face of mone fo the kids, I yelled BOCK BOCK BOCK BOCK BOCK and GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE (I know) while waving my arms and stomping my legs like a kung fu chicken.

I suppose the intent of this was to drive off the invaders, like a momma bear, or better, like a big psycho chicken. But it just made their blows go from playful to not so playful, and the beating ensued. In fact, it was so harsh that I fell over, and soon found myself getting kicked in the face. Well, I was skinny, and the suit was rotund, and over the course of the day I had become ninja-like in shedding the suit to use the bathroom. So as I lay on the gorund getting kicked, I unlatched the little suspended thingies that kept the body section of the suit attached, and I leaped out of the chcken body -- still wearing the head -- whilst clothed only in my good luck Winnie The Pooh boxers (it was hot in there, right?). I began a whirlwind of pushing and throwing -- intentionally not outright striking the little ghetto monsters -- and they realized they were no match for my awesome leg work (8 years Kenpo, wow all that training finally paid off). They started to run and I started to chase them around cars stopped at the intersection.

People at the intersection were honking, threatening to call the police and calling me a pervert. To further complicate things, two of my clown colleagues and one of my assistant managers saw what was happening and came out to help me, so now there was a shirtless chicken, a guy in a mcdonalds uniform and two clowns trying to shoo off 5 little brats who were at this point throwing rocks and yelling that we were trying to molest them. One big crew cut, drill seargent looking guy who apparently didnt just see me get my chicken ass kciked stopped his car, holding up traffic. He got out and pointed dead at me, and said "it's alright boys, then looked at me and asked me what the hell I thought I was doing."

"Did you not just see them assault me?"

The boys responded by saying "He's a child molester!"

To which I responded "Why would I want to molest crack babies with AIDS?"

To which they had no response, because they had never heard anything either so mean, or so true, or perhaps both, and probably behaved like this in school with little or no punishment because ACINs liberal friends ruined the public school system.

Then the kids ran off. The cops showed up an hour later. An angry mom of one of the boys came by the store and said she was going to sue or press charges unless we gave her a store credit, and the manager obliged because he was a pansy. After seeing her I do, in fact, think therein lies a very good chance her child was a crack baby. But at least she had high standards, because she was appeased with a store credit of a whopping $30 and McDonalds luckily avoided a multi-million dollar lawsuit. The QPC trumps the dollar any day. And every time she used that credit, she got some special sauce.

Don't mess with the people who make your food.

It is hilarious and sad how cruel people can be towards the guy who spends 10-15 minutes alone in the dark in a car with your food, away from prying eyes. And they order every freaking week, and they're always jerk bags. It's like russian roulette.... abuse the delivery guy until you get one that will be mean right back to you.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't so ethical. But, I suppose it is comforting to know that there are less ethical people out there, and there's nothing I can do to stop them. It's all part of that cosmic justice thing called karma that I don't believe in, but some do. I have learned to let nature take its course there. :2thumbsup:

They get fired when they get caught too, so, that's also karmic balance coming into play. As for me, I recount tales of my heroic battles against idiots for my friends to laugh at, and that is my revenge.

I did not take the special sauce lightly. It was an honor very rarely given, and in the many years I delivered pizza I never did it. There are otherways to get back at cutomers who are contant jerks, constant stiffers, etc, but even those people would not warrant vengeance. Just showed up, did my job and did it right, then moved.

The vengeance was stemmed from the ever-so-volatile mix of someone who orders frequent, never tips, always rude, always inconvenient (like making me wait long time, fight off dogs etc) always has a complaint and finally -- this is the big one -- attempts to get what they want through threats both civil (I'm gonna sue you) and physical, real and implied.

Those are the people that got the special treatment. Story at 10.

Alright I thought I wouldn't tell these stories but heres one at least.

My uncle is a commercial fishermen in San Diego. One summer he said I could come work for him since yah know I know how to work on a commercial fishing boat. Luckily he was the skipper of a little sport fishing boat. By little I mean that a hundred people would pay a decent sum of money and go fishing for the day.

Now you have to remember these patrons were not piloting the boat..... therefore alcohol was often imbibed in prodigious amounts. I also want to note that I was 15 years old.

So one afternoon we headed for a 4 hour run. We were barely leaving the bay to be honest (there are some times when the boat goes all the way out to sea for overnight trips) So everything is going great. Now we have to pick up bait obviously. Now if you have never done one of these charter boat adventures then you won't realize that live bait is used. More specifically bait like Mackerel and Sardines with some Anchovies. And the charter captain pilots the boat to a little like store out in the bay where they sell all this bait. So we are pulled over and me and the rest of the crew is scooping up bait while the customers either ignore us getting underfoot or stare at us like we were carrying the crown jewels of timbuktu. Now this story veers into a couple parts for different events.

Story One- The Communer

One man I would say about 40 or older was heavily intoxicated. By heavily intoxicated I mean to say he was plastered. He was stumbling and slurring like a sailor on his first foreign harbor. (note out boat did not sell alcohol on board but its not like we cared if they came drunk)This individual saw that we were loading these hundreds of fish into buckets in the boat. He was obviously from a landlocked place (probably oklahoma) and was amazed with these fish. So amazed in fact that he screamed out "I wanna swim with the fishys!!!!! (note: this is a full grown man) leapt over the railing of the moored boat ran to the floating dock and attempted to jump into the tanks filled with thousands of "fishys". Now these fishys are often a couple pounds heavy in the case of the mackrel especially. So he gets in and hes just floating there cackling to himself........ he ended up causing god only knows how much damage to the stock and when told he would be billed for it (he had sobered up a little when informed later) claimed that we, I in particular had been too lax in allowing passengers access to the bait tanks. My uncle reciprocated this accusation by saying that he was banned from any ship he knew the owner or skipper of as well as his own boat (nearly all of them) and that he would still be billed for the damages.

The Hunyak

Another time while we are loading bait i was scooping in a particularly juicy net full of these little morsels and a woman came up to me. She was not intoxicated. She asked as I was dropping the bait in which one of the bait was the best. I informed her that they were all fine and just to choose a frisky one. She informed me that fine she wanted that one and pointed in the general direction of the tank. I humored her and asked her which one in particular she said that shiny silver one. I stared at in a stupor until she said she this silver one. I glanced over picked up a random bait fish and gave it to her. "this one?" "Why Yes!" thank you. I was like okay that was easy. She then handed it back to me and told me to keep it in her bait compartment. I thought she meant she had like a cooler or something where she kept her bait. I asked her where she kept it. She looked at me like i was a retard and said she didnt know she didnt work here. I eventually came to realize she thought that everybody on the boat got a little tank for their favorite bait. Once I realized this I gently explained to her that no this is not the case. Oh she said well you can simply hold my bait for me until we begin to fish. I being the superb employee which I am of course acceded to this reasonable request. She went down below for I assume another bottle of retard juice. I promptly threw the fish the fish back. Ahhhhh, you see I didnt put it back in the tank. no, I was spiteful enough to throw this fish back into the ocean. You see I edited this woman's exchange with me. She among other things called me a dumb **** said her dog had a better future than I, and that I was a POS white trash nobody who didnt evne understand the process of charter boat fishing. This is the woman who believed that everyone on board got their own special bait holder. Later she came back to me and asked for her bait I said certainly. I pulled out another fish from the tank for her. She said that is not my fish. I said get over it. She said :daisy:. I said no thank you ma'am you are not attractive enough to make love too (imagine a fifteen year old saying that too you) She became incensed she asked my name so she could report her too the captain I gave it to her. She then scoffed at my name and called me a ******* retarded Hunyak (note: my name is decidedly irish) I had no idea what this meant (its a slur for eastern europeans i later learned from my uncle) . I shocked by an insult i actually didnt understand dazedly told her to go report me to the Captain. She did. I told my uncle she called me the "h" word. He being a man very proud of numerous varieties of eastern european in our blood told her to shut up and that if she didnt leave now he would turn around the boat and she would explain to the other patorns why. She luckily shut up though she did try to trip me when i was getting a cudda off the deck or at leas ti think it was purposeful. However, I just want to know that until up to that point i had no idea that people actually used European slurs anymore. It sort of revolutionized my insult giving. So in the end i appreciate that.

Now I have this great scene in my head featuring a giant chicken mascot, 2 clowns (one a gorgeous Vietnamese girl) and that drill sergeant from full metal jacket.

BTW Pizza, no offense but you have a long history of unpleasant jobs.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Askthepizzaguy

It is hilarious and sad how cruel people can be towards the guy who spends 10-15 minutes alone in the dark in a car with your food, away from prying eyes. And they order every freaking week, and they're always jerk bags. [x]It's like russian roulette.... abuse the delivery guy until you get one that will be mean right back to you.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't so ethical. But, I suppose it is comforting to know that there are less ethical people out there, and there's nothing I can do to stop them. It's all part of that cosmic justice thing called karma that I don't believe in, but some do. I have learned to let nature take its course there. :2thumbsup:

---

See this is what I mean, that is good. 'Cruel' instead of 'scumbags' it drags your delicate you into the situation, the distant observer of lunacy

[x] something missing here, needs more why

Pizza, did anything like this ever happen to you while you were a telemarketer?

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Populus Romanus

Pizza, did anything like this ever happen to you while you were a telemarketer?

---

Could be worse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4b11eHkIijg

Might I plead with members that you proof-read your posts before pressing the button. Rather too many instances of rule-breaking vocabulary are appearing and at some point a moderator's amused forbearance may give way to short-tempered infraction points.

Thank you kindly.

:bow:

I am going to share one of my mothers'. She was a physical therapist assistant, and did home care appointments for a long time. Home care means you get some of the same negatives as, say, pizza delivery -- only you have to actually enter the home of the hoarder and touch the people who haven't bathed in a month. She made decent money. I don't know that I could do it for twice as much.

Anyway, her prize story was being sent to a house and let in, to find the house's occupants -- along with a half dozen dogs -- gathered around their kitchen table. The dogs were there because they were getting bits of food thrown to them from time to time. The food was mostly random deer parts. You see, the people had the whole dead deer spread out on their kitchen table, skin, bones, head, hooves, guts and all, and were in the process of butchering it, right there. They kept right on doing it while she did range of motion exercises with her patient in the next room, too.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Renata

I am going to share one of my mothers'. She was a physical therapist assistant, and did home care appointments for a long time. Home care means you get some of the same negatives as, say, pizza delivery -- only you have to actually enter the home of the hoarder and touch the people who haven't bathed in a month. She made decent money. I don't know that I could do it for twice as much.

Anyway, her prize story was being sent to a house and let in, to find the house's occupants -- along with a half dozen dogs -- gathered around their kitchen table. The dogs were there because they were getting bits of food thrown to them from time to time. The food was mostly random deer parts. You see, the people had the whole dead deer spread out on their kitchen table, skin, bones, head, hooves, guts and all, and were in the process of butchering it, right there. They kept right on doing it while she did range of motion exercises with her patient in the next room, too.

---

i would say that is sort of weird but not really a horror story and definitely a funny ice breaker.

Trust me, that's a blessing. The women are usually worse...

I think I may have taken in the man mentioned for a mental health hold. Did he happen to have an albino ferret crawling all over him? :clown:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Askthepizzaguy

No nudist women, of course. Not once. Just guys, because guys are pigs, in every sense of the word. They physically resemble pigs. I've seen enough, it's like the Discovery channel. It's like wild animals. After a while, it's not even the nudity that bothers you, its the things they try to do while nude.

---