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Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Inspired by this post, apparently Major Robert Dump and I have both experienced the utter stupidity and insanity that comes with dealing with your everyday average person while delivering pizza.
While I am sure the pizza drivers among us will have some of the most interesting stories, persons of other professions are more than welcome to share their tales of interest.
I would love to share all my horror stories, but it will take a while to type them out, so here's some of my favorite snippets of asinine things customers do to pizza guys. There's going to have to be a separate section devoted to tip-based atrocities, because that one deserves its own section. So let's focus just on the non-tip aspects of human stupidity.
1) Ordering pizza and then leaving the house to go to the store, then wondering why I am not willing to wait more than 5 minutes for them to get their foolish butt back to their own house.
2) Not understanding the first thing about credit card slips, even after I repeat and rephrase the instructions for them. You sign the bottom, and fill in the tip and the total on the top, and it even tells you how much the food costs. So I say "Please fill out the top and then sign it on the bottom." When that doesn't work, I tell them "The top part has two lines under the price of the food. The first line is for the tip, the second line is for the total. You then sign it at the bottom." Simple enough, but that doesn't get through, so I have to literally point at the lines and go "This where tip go. This where total go. You add tip to price of food, that how you get total." And believe it or not, even after pointing at the line, in the light, talking slowly (and more politely than I just spoke), they still do not get it. This happens literally every single night.
3) No numbers on your house, mailbox, or even the curb or driveway, no lights on at the house, NO DOORBELL, and a locked gate-type metal security door to prevent me from even knocking on the front door that is behind it. So, how am I supposed to find your house, and inform you that I am there? That's brilliant. You want me to waste minutes on my cell phone which I know you won't compensate me for with a tip? I'd rather drive back to the store with your dinner still in hand.
4) You order pizza, I arrive 20-30 minutes later, there's a big window next to the door, my car is visible outside, with the car topper lit, you have a peephole on your door, and it never fails. "WHO IS IT?" It's Santa Claus, genius. Open the freaking door.
5) Big violent dogs with no leashes in your yard, preventing me from ringing your doorbell or knocking on your door. Put the dog on a leash.... or in your bathroom and close the door. I'm tired of waiting 15 minutes while you struggle with your own pet for the ability to open your own front door. It's not like you're not EXPECTING someone to come to the door, you ordered pizza! Think ahead! Would be nice if you didn't wait until the last minute to root through your sofa cushions for the exact change, too! NO I WILL NOT HELP YOU PAY FOR YOUR OWN DINNER!!! I WORK FOR MONEY, NOT TO PAY FOR YOUR FOOD! Seriously! Do you go to the gas station and ask the clerk to pay for your gas? With HIS own money? You gotta be on drugs.
6) Clothing. I know being nearly naked is fun for you, but trust me, it's not fun for me to have to look at you. Wear pants that fit, pull them up off of your knees, I don't need to see every inch of your boxers. Guys, you all have ugly chests that don't appeal to me, but when you're 60+, overweight, covered in hair, splotches, and discoloration, and you never shower, wear some freaking clothing. Oh, and take a shower once in a while. Why is it always the men who insist on being so exhibitionist toward me? 100 nearly naked fat grandpas for every petite woman in a towel. It's not worth it.
7) Don't touch me. Don't. I'm not your buddy. I will leave and never deliver to you again if you place your hands on me. I don't work for handshakes, backslaps, or hugs. I'm not desperate for physical attention, especially not from you. How would you feel if I reached out and honked your wife's chest? Yeah, not really fun for you? Well, don't touch me. Same boundaries.
8) Hoarders. I have delivered to hoarders houses, and the dude that lets garbage pile up, and has every pizza box from every delivery I've ever done sitting in plain view of the front door. He doesn't smell, really. I swear. Old lady with 20 cats that pee and poop everywhere, and still thinks a nickel is an acceptable tip? I'm glad old people die off.
That's just for starters. I can get into the actual dangers of the job, like how my car got stolen, later vandalized, and how just the other day someone broke into my car to steal the plug that lights up the car topper. It's worth five dollars. There was more money than that in change in the ashtray, you dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb...... and who is going to buy it from you, genius? Who? Are you going to use it on your car so you can pretend to be me? What a maroon.
Or being robbed at knife or gunpoint, that's fun. We lost some drivers last year because they quit after being robbed. I wonder why.... I guess working for 4 dollars an hour isn't worth getting shot over. Thanks for tipping, by the way. Those 12 cents will go a long way toward that gumball I've always wanted. But tipping, that's another story for another time.
And I've got actual stories too, which are funny/scary/amusing/infuriating. We'll get to those.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
good read....keep it coming.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Philipvs Vallindervs Calicvla
What is "tip"?
Depends on the context. Let me tell you about a tip that I didn't want.... at all..... ever.
Horror Story #1: The tip that I refused
So it was about 4 years back. I was delivering on the other side of the state, at a different store. It's late at night, pitch black out, and I get an order wayyy out in the boonies. It's a long drive, and it's the only order I have going in that direction. I need the money because it's been a slow night. When I get there, I pull up on the street next to the driveway (You don't park in their driveway; that's a great way to get blocked in so you can't escape if they try to rob you) and I grab the food and walk up to the front door.
There's a note on the front door that says to use the side door. I turn to my right, and I see that there are indeed two doors that could be considered the "front" door, because there's a wing of the house that juts out and points toward the street. There's a door on what appears to be the living room, facing toward me. There's also a big picture window with no curtains, and I can see inside the house just fine. The window is massive, as is the television that sits inside the living room. Without even blinking, I can see that there is hardcore pornography playing on the TV, from where I am standing 30 feet away. The TV is the single largest TV I have ever seen... it literally takes up the entire wall of this person's living room, without exaggeration. You could see the pornography on this TV from space. I will decline to mention what kind of pornography is playing, and how graphic it is.
I get to the side door, and I ring the bell. I can already see this is going to be bad, as this person isn't just caught unprepared, no, this is all intentionally laid out for me to see. This person is a total pervert. On this person's computer, which is right next to the door, I don't even have to glance at the computer monitor to see that there is graphic and disturbing adult material playing on the computer as well..... and there are piles.... and piles.... of writeable dvds marked "porn", with very descriptive words in front of that.
Then we get to the state of the living room itself, which is completely, and utterly, strewn with X-rated paraphernalia of all kinds. And I do mean all kinds. I care not repeat all the various objects, lotions, and so forth that I saw. It was everywhere. There were tables with all the junk on it. It seemed like the only thing this person did with their time was obsess over X-rated things.
And then of course, Mister Happy comes to the door. I am thankful that this one was at least covering some parts of his body with some type of clothing, especially given the state he's currently in. He's winking at me, in that way. But he wasn't covered in much clothing, that's for sure. It left nothing to the imagination, but at least I wasn't looking directly at him. He was a big fella, and I don't mean his waistline.
So he's a portly 50-60 year old man, and certainly very enthusiastic about meeting me. He says he's got the money for the pizza and the tip, but he left it in his bedroom. He then invites me to come inside so I can collect it.
I politely decline. I am not stepping one foot into Captain McFeely's house, thank you very much, but no. So he goes to get the money. I wait outside, ready to bolt if anyone approaches me from anywhere.
I really believe I should have just left, but I am worried that I will have to explain to my boss why I don't have the money for the food. I'm also kind of stunned I'm experiencing all this, and I am not thinking clearly at all. I'm just nervous and nauseous, and disoriented.
The guy is gone for literally 10 minutes, while this loud, obnoxious pornography is blaring in my ears and face. I am getting an odd combination of completely bored and entirely disgusted and very paranoid all at once. I've never felt like that before or since. I don't think they have a name for that particular emotional state.
I am now very certain that this entire setup is a perverse attempt at seduction. And since I've now endured most of it, I am kind of angry as well. I want the money, because putting up with all this and not getting paid for the food I've delivered is just going to make me snap. Finally the guy comes out of his bedroom after doing god knows what, and hands me enough cash to pay for the meal.
I take the cash, and I leave very quickly. I wash my hands as soon as I get to the store. I explain to my boss that I won't be delivering there again, and why. My boss actually agrees.
Good, one freak down, 999 to go.....
Like I said, at least that one was wearing very thin boxer shorts. I have no dramatic tales about the nudist guys, except that I will refuse to give them the food if they don't come to the door clothed. Not that that stops them from walking past the full-length window next to the front door naked every single time I went there, on purpose. Thanks so much for the imagery.
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Philipvs Vallindervs Calicvla
What is "tip"?
In America, they work on the concept where employers pay you below minimum wage and expect you to make up the difference from people paying extra for their meal from the goodness of their hearts.
It is completely alien to us, especially when the likes of Dominos are charging $16 for a Pizza (When you can buy a raw version from Walmart for $5). So the only real concept of Brits tipping is when the total is like "$24.30" and we just give them $25 and tell them to keep the change.
However, those Dominos pizza boys are earning $9.47 per hour which is probably more than what Pizza earns and are supplied with a car/bike and petrol too.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Beskar
In America, they work on the concept where employers pay you below minimum wage and expect you to make up the difference from people paying extra for their meal from the goodness of their hearts.
Yeah I went over the pay structure in some detail in one of CR's threads... sorta hijacking it a bit, too (apologies).
It's 4 dollars an hour while we're on the road, which is 80% of the time, and minimum wage the rest of the time. $7 something.
We get paid $1 per delivery out of the $2.50 they charge the customer for delivery. That goes to gasoline, as gasoline costs nearly $4 a gallon where I live. 40 deliveries, 40 dollars, filling up a tank is more than 40 dollars. I don't see a cent of that money, it all goes to oil companies.
Then, the Internal Revenue Service expects me to claim, and pay taxes on, 3 dollars per hour in tips while I am on the road, whether I earn said tips or not. Many a night have I earned less in tips than what I'm supposed to claim. I need about a dollar per delivery in tips just to reach or exceed minimum wage. If I get several customers in a row who do not tip, it's rather easy to make 4 dollars in an hour, just what I'm paid in wages, nothing more. Then I have expenses related to driving which aren't covered, which include much higher insurance costs, wear and tear on the vehicle being at least 4-10 times more than the average commuter, since they spend most of their working hours outside of their vehicle, tires of course (bottles in parking lots can cost you 80 bucks a 'pop'), oil changes, and then of course we do get robbed. Like I mentioned, 600 dollars in January due to the car being stolen and then recovery costs associated with that. Insurance didn't cover squat due to the deductible.
We also get fabulous benefits like paying 8.52 for a pizza that costs a customer 10 dollars. No, not free meals. Wooooo, what a discount. Also, no dental, medical, 401k, or whatever else companies offer.
It's grand. And since the $2.50 delivery charge is included for every order I take, folks believe that's the tip, and I'm not allowed to correct them on that point unless they mention it first, else I lose my job. You don't mention the tip at the door, no matter how politely.
This is more "sad story" than horror story, and less entertaining, so let's save it for the "tipping" portion of the journey into Pizzaland.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Turkiish gangsters and identity fraud. I'm not easily intimidated but SIR YES SIR on this one.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
I'm glad I'm a Eurocommie so I can earn the £5.93 an hour minimum wage.
Speaking of tips, I've got one in all my time at work. Was £1 IIRC.
But maybe we are being 'Americanised' because I know people who work in fancier places who do regularly get tips.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Fragony
Turkiish gangsters and identity fraud. I'm not easily intimidated but SIR YES SIR on this one.
Please elaborate! :yes: What is your job, when does this come up?
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Beskar
In America, they work on the concept where employers pay you below minimum wage and expect you to make up the difference from people paying extra for their meal from the goodness of their hearts.
It is completely alien to us, especially when the likes of Dominos are charging $16 for a Pizza (When you can buy a raw version from Walmart for $5). So the only real concept of Brits tipping is when the total is like "$24.30" and we just give them $25 and tell them to keep the change.
However, those Dominos pizza boys are earning $9.47 per hour which is probably more than what Pizza earns and are supplied with a car/bike and petrol too.
I have to admit, as an America, I don't understand the idea of the obligatory tip. I don't mind giving a good tip for good service- but I kind of chap under the notion that I'm required to give a "gratuity". I've always thought that if it's required then it should be added to the bill. If it's really a gratuity, it should hinge on your satisfaction with your service.
As for pizza deliveries.... I don't bother. I think it's actually more hassle to have it delivered than to go get it yourself. :shrug:
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Rhyfylwr
I'm glad I'm a Eurocommie so I can earn the £5.93 an hour minimum wage.
Speaking of tips, I've got one in all my time at work. Was £1 IIRC.
But maybe we are being 'Americanised' because I know people who work in fancier places who do regularly get tips.
It is because Middle Class people go to Bella Italia (and its kind) and they have money to actually tip. Plus, you get some looks if you don't tip in there.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Askthepizzaguy
Please elaborate! :yes: What is your job, when does this come up?
Not my job anymore it kinda gets to you dealing with scum. I arranged workers for the meat processing plants, basicly 'I want that you hire him'. I was perectly aware that the papers were false. Nigerians aren't very fun either, you get valid papers but someone else shows up. Guy with the papers get the money and their what I can call nothing other than slaves a meal if they are lucky. Everybody knows it but what can you do, these guys are seriously dangerous.
edit, can get even better, accidents aren't always accidents
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Xiahou
I have to admit, as an America, I don't understand the idea of the obligatory tip. I don't mind giving a good tip for good service- but I kind of chap under the notion that I'm required to give a "gratuity". I've always thought that if it's required then it should be added to the bill. If it's really a gratuity, it should hinge on your satisfaction with your service.
Mr. Pink...is that you? :P
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Xiahou
I have to admit, as an America, I don't understand the idea of the obligatory tip. I don't mind giving a good tip for good service- but I kind of chap under the notion that I'm required to give a "gratuity". I've always thought that if it's required then it should be added to the bill. If it's really a gratuity, it should hinge on your satisfaction with your service.
As a person who earns tips, I agree. Tipping is the single stupidest idea that has ever come about in terms of how a worker gets paid for his work.
If I were paid the same minimum wage as everyone, and I got 2 dollars out of that 2.50 they charge the customer for gas and maintenance, no one would ever have to tip me at all, and my income would be based strictly on how many deliveries I take, which means, the better my service, the more I make.
Right now, my income has nothing to do with my work performance. I do a darned excellent job, and most people stiff me or give me pathetic "change" for a tip at this store (was different at other stores, so I know it's not me...) and sometimes, we screw up people's orders or we're slammed that night and all deliveries are going out late, and then I get a good tip. It's like my income is totally unrelated to my performance, and that's just bad since it is supposed to be an incentive to do better. It's not working out that way.
I've also noticed the following about tipping:
- No correlation whatsoever between performance and income, >50% of the time.
Some customers never tip, regardless of service. Therefore tipping is an incentive to give second-rate service in favor of people who ordinarily would be delivered to second because they're further away, or who were promised their pizza after the first customer. It's hardly an incentive at all, since I can't just drive faster and then get speeding tickets. It's a convoluted system which can actually have negative effects.
- Direct correlation between stupidity and my income, half the time.
Your tip is usually based on how lazy people are. If a delivery costs 23.97 (Right, guys? That special on large pizzas for ten dollars, plus tax and delivery, plus the fact that people usually order two pizzas, means half my orders work out to exactly 23.97, which means....) then my tip is three cents. Three cents, at least half the time. Oh, but if the order was ~24.50 because they ordered an extra sauce, out of sheer laziness, I get fifty cents as a tip. Or, sometimes, the order is 16.50. My odds of getting a $3.50 tip greatly increase simply because they're paying with a 20 dollar bill and that's a nice, even, satisfying number. 90% of my income variation is based on people's fetishes for satisfying numbers. That's why you know this system is truly messed up. It has far more to do with psychology than actual performance. That's why I've developed a severe dislike of dumb people. They are ruled almost entirely by irrational thoughts like that, and therefore, there is no logical reason to treat them like an intelligent life form.
- Tip is determined before I get to the door, most of the time.
When I show up, almost 100% of the time, the amount they were going to spend on their food is already set aside before I get there. They just hand me what they were going to spend, regardless of good service or not. The pizza could have been delayed 15 minutes, it wouldn't affect a thing. The only time it could possibly matter is when they haven't counted it out prior to my reaching the door, which is usually when they fumble through their wallet filled with 50 dollar bills, and pay me with exact change anyway, leading to yet another lack of any correlation between my service and my income. And of course, good tippers tend to tip the same whether it gets there in 15 minutes or the promised 30, and they even tip more generously than anyone else when it is late. So, again.... no correlation between performance and income. None.
- Exceptions still do not really correlate either.
There may be a few customers out there who actually calculate a tip based on how fast the pizza got there and how courteous I was. But you also have to figure, they're still basing how much they want to give based on how much they can afford (another factor out of my control) and their mood that day (if you're not in a good mood, you take it out on me every time). So, again.... very little correlation between performance and income. Mostly it has to do with the personality of my customer, and there's nothing I can do to change that.
All in all, the tipping system is completely stupid.
Quote:
As for pizza deliveries.... I don't bother. I think it's actually more hassle to have it delivered than to go get it yourself. :shrug:
I honestly wish certain people would go get it themselves. There's a long list of people who order all the time who really should not.
Off the top of my head:
1) People who never tip, ever, under any circumstances. Obviously they don't feel I am providing a service, therefore, they shouldn't mind going without said service.
2) People who round up to the nearest dollar. Those 12 cents really insult me.
3) People who live across the street (literally) from the Pizza place, and waste my time by having me deliver to them, and of course I don't get a tip because I didn't drive that far. Sure, I didn't, but I also need to earn money, and I didn't get a delivery going to a customer who tips. It removes income from me. And, if it's not a long distance, why not walk?
4) People who tip a dollar or less while it's raining or when there is a blizzard and the roads are either flooded or covered with ice.
5) And then complain when promise times are over 30 minutes. Traffic slows down in lousy weather, AND people order pizza when they can't go get it themselves. So, that means more orders and more time per order.
Basically, everyone understands that a waiter gets paid almost nothing by their employer. They get paid based on the quality and excellence of their service. Polite order taking, suggestive selling, prompt refills, and bringing things you need, and the food on time.
I do all of those things. I take orders, I suggest menu items to be included with the meal. I bring everything you need including plates, napkins, utensils, peppers, cheese, drinks, sauces, etc, and it's my job to get you your food on time, hot, nice-looking, and brought all the way to your house while you're still in pajamas. You get a nice hot meal without leaving your couch, pretty much. A waiter can't even touch that, except for the refills. They don't use their car to get you the food either, and they don't get robbed.
And people are generally aware waiters make 3 dollars an hour and need tips to survive. Most people seem unaware Pizza delivery drivers are the exact same way, plus dangers and expenses that aren't paid for.
I highly advocate switching to a flat 3 dollar delivery fee, no tips. 1 dollar for my gasoline, 2 dollars for me, and no extra dollar that the store keeps like they presently do. I could live on that. It's only 50 cents more than you're presently paying.
But that would make too much sense.
More info on tips:
http://tipthepizzaguy.com/general/why.htm
http://tipthepizzaguy.com/general/not.htm
http://tipthepizzaguy.com/objections/
http://tipthepizzaguy.com/compare/
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
I alaways tip 5 but I almost never order delivery.
As for horror stories.
I once saw a guy lose a finger while butchering up ribeyes, I still can't belive they let me play around all these saws all day
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Yeah I share your sentiment on tips ATPG, I have noticed similar flaws in the idea of upselling. These things aren't always as simple as they first appear.
I do not really have any real horror stories from my time at work, I can imagine you get a lot more having to meet these people on their own turf. The worst sort of stuff is things like cleaning up the toilets after people decide to shoot up in the toilets and leave their syringes and bloodied tissues behind.
Or squaring up to the local 'young team' and the like. This being the west coast of Scotland, it consists of both parties flailing their arms out while shouting "mon then" and throwing mini-headbutts at each other.
Come to think of it the stories from when I worked at a charity shop are better. Like one guy that was there because of IIRC probation conditions or something like that, went a bit mental and cut his wrists. :/
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Scotland sounds like a hellhole
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Having worked briefly with a crime lab, I've seen more horror than experienced. A bad day would be getting skinned alive from a motorcycle accident.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Samurai Waki
A bad day would be getting skinned alive from a motorcycle accident.
*shudders*
That's one of my pet fears there...
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Back when I was a lad of 12 I played in a Drum Corp. One day we had to go door to door selling frozen pizzas to help support our expenses. I rang the door bell at this one house and a woman answered. She was about 25-30 years old, drop-dead gorgeous, and all she had on were shorts and a see-through top that left little to the imagination. I couldn't take my eyes off her "assets" and she couldn't help but notice my "attention" when I handed her the pizza case that was hiding my appreciation. She smiled and giggled, I turned red as a beet.:laugh4:
Hosa's tip o the week: Don't drink and drive, you might hit a bump and spill your drink.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
ATPG, you have my sincerest sympathy. I don't envy anyone who works in the food service industry. But could you clear up something for me? I've been under the impression that in jobs where employees work for less than minimum wage, the employer has to make up the difference if their daily total doesn't come out to what it would be if they were making minimum wage. So basically, one would still make minimum wage even with no tips, but they can only make above minimum wage with great tips. Am I mistaken? Not trying to take anything away from what you're saying here, just wondering.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
B_Ray
ATPG, you have my sincerest sympathy. I don't envy anyone who works in the food service industry. But could you clear up something for me? I've been under the impression that in jobs where employees work for less than minimum wage, the employer has to make up the difference if their daily total doesn't come out to what it would be if they were making minimum wage. So basically, one would still make minimum wage even with no tips, but they can only make above minimum wage with great tips. Am I mistaken? Not trying to take anything away from your situation, just wondering.
Technically, the dollar I make per delivery which goes directly to gas and doesn't benefit me at all counts as income.
If you add that in, I will make above minimum wage, even though in real terms I am not making above minimum wage due to the costs of delivery. And that's just gasoline alone. Repairs, maintenance, theft and vandalism are costs which are not covered and further offset my income. I can technically make 10 dollars an hour (a frequently advertised figure which is completely misleading, as is the "delivery charge"), and if I took 4 deliveries that hour, that's a gallon of gasoline I'm spending. I feel really bad for the people who deliver in vans, big trucks, and SUV-type vehicles, who spend 60 dollars every 2 days on gasoline. I am lucky to only be spending 40 every other shift.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Yikes. The worst I've had in life is a sprained ankle delivering newspapers around the corner from my own home. Repeatedly.
I think I already asked this afew months ago but Pizza have you tried to write for a newspaper or magazine? You seem to be perfect for it going by your mafia games and AAR's.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Greyblades
Yikes. The worst I've had in life is a sprained ankle delivering newspapers around the corner from my own home. Repeatedly.
I think I already asked this afew months ago but Pizza have you tried to write for a newspaper or magazine? You seem to be perfect for it going by your mafia games and AAR's.
Really? I'm doubtful about it. I don't do things like rough drafts, or much editing... and I just sort of rant. I feel there are far cleverer and wittier writers out there.
Folks like GeneralHankerchief write much more beautifully than I do, and can make a scene with three dudes sitting around a campfire magical. I can throw the kitchen sink at a writeup involving a gathering of some of the most evil villains of all time and it just doesn't have the same spark to me.
But thanks for the compliment.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Well I was just thinking that seeing as you have talent at it and you seem to enjoy writing, I think you have a legitamate shot at getting paid for doing something you enjoy, which is the sort of thing I'd jump at the chance to get myself.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Askthepizzaguy
Really? I'm doubtful about it. I don't do things like rough drafts, or much editing... and I just sort of rant. I feel there are far cleverer and wittier writers out there.
Well how's that different from your average blogger journo type?
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Tellos Athenaios
Well how's that different from your average blogger journo type?
Yes, there are commercial hack writers out there. Just read some of the articles on yahoo.... and bloggers, ugh. Some of the worst thought processes ever devised by the human brain laid bare for all to see.
My mind is constantly in flux. I once thought of writing a book and putting my thoughts about philosophy and politics and metaphysics in there, but then I waited a year, and my mind had changed so much I thought everything I would have written would have been terrible.
Every time I think I've got a good view of the world and a good handle on things, something comes along which changes my mind. I can certainly be passionate about what I write, but if I'm going to publish my thoughts, I'd like to be able to endorse them. Most of the thoughts I've ever had are ones I no longer agree with.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
So, you could write a best-seller today. The next year, you can write a new best-seller in which you destroy everything you have written in the first one. And then you can continue that process for infinity.
Pizza's world view or The truth according to Pizza in 37 volumes, each volume completely different from the other ones. Should make for a fun read.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Back to the topic of horror stories!!! :stare:
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
In the UK a waiter or waitress in a restaurant will get paid the minimum wage plus tips (which are tax free if cash). Although this wage isn't massive it is reliable and constant, with an extra top up of cash in the for of tips. My girlfriend earns more than me because she can get maybe £50 in grats per day over the weekend.
If you go to a restaurant I recommend finding out how tips are dealt with. Some places have a pot system for cash which means your tip may not go to your waitress, so in those places try to pay the grat on a card since then it'll go to your server (but be taxed). If the tip goes to the individual then tip with cash, it'll be more appreciated.
Pizza delivery sounds pretty thankless in any country (but maybe the minimum wage is one reason why delivered pizzas are such poor value over here).
Edit:
On the subject of horror stories I have dealt with brawls, drunks, druggies, dealers, emotional breakdowns, medical emergencies, sexual revelations, police stings, informers and alcoholics. Not always successfully!
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Ok, back on topic, for an unbelievable story.
It was a very difficult inherintance case. The estate we're talking about was pretty big and of course, to spice things up, the heirs hated each other. Especially because the excentric deceased had put the niece he always said he hated and would leave out of his will as his most important heir in his last will. Even she herself was surprised. Instead of nothing, she was getting the better part of his belongings.
Anyway, with the sole reason to annoy the "bad niece", the other heirs had accepted the succession under the benefit of inventory. Not because there was a risk of there being more debts than money and real estate, but because accepting it under benefit of inventory forces everybody involved to follow complicated procedures. It was an attempt to make the case go slow, to, as I said, annoy the "bad niece" so that she should have to wait longer to get her money.
Anyway, our office was charged with the making of the inventory.
The first day, we went over to the house of the deceased. The excentric man was incontinent. The entire house smelled. The smell of piss. Everywhere. He never took care of himself and refused all help. Nurses, cleaning ladies, family to help; none of them were allowed into his house. His car smelled bad as well. A beautiful Mercedes. Such a shame; the smell made it worthless. The seats had been literally drained in piss for years. Such a beautiful car. But ok, so far so good.
The heirs were expecting expensive paintings, valuable furniture and what not in that house, but all that was in the house was rubbish. Worth less than it would cost you to pay a guy for throwing it away.
Until we went to the cellar. Thousands of bottles of exquise wine and champagne. And a coffin with hundreds of thousands of euros in cash. It took us hours to count the money. How a man who is so rich can live in such circumstances as if he was the poorest of the poor will always go beyond me. Incomprehensible.
We also found war ammunition in his house, which he had gathered as a boy during WWII.
Good, after making the inventory of what was in the house, we had to go into the garden. One of the heirs opened a small fence and BOOM! The thing was boobytrapped! As by miracle, nobody got hurt, but damn this was close. I almost died there. Nutter! Who'd expect a full functioning boobytrap on the property of some 85 year old excentric incontinent man.
But good, we survived, but the man had also a large piece of land somewhere. There were only trees on it; it was more like a wood. On it, he had a little shack. Since the heirs were pests, they insisted we'd make an inventory of the content of that old shack.
Over to the private woods.
It took us three hours to find that damn shack. On the floor, there was a wire. Before I could say "Stop, we're going back and we'll have a specialist take a look at it this time", one the heirs decided he wanted to play hero and he went over to the wire to dismantle the boobytrap. Idiot. It went off. A big bang, but luckily, this one was just to scare people away, so there was no charge, only powder to make a big bang. Not good for your ears, but not dangerous either.
Then we came closer to the shack. The door had a wire on the outside. Our local hero refused to listen to reason. I asked all parties involved to take distance. I myself went hiding behind a very big tree and ducked. It went off again, but no harm, since there was no charge either, just gunpowder to create a very big bang.
Our excentric man used to hunt in his woods. But he didn't have a license. Years ago, he had an argument with licensed hunters who broke into his shack to steal his rifle (instead of going to the police and report the guy like normal people would do). In response, he had placed the boobytraps. And a metal door. And metal plates before the windows. And the shack was in concrete. Nobody had a key and we had to get in to make an inventory of whatever was in that shack.
We had metal bars with us. The heirs started to destroy their property in front of me. After an hour or so, they asked me for help. Yes, I got permission of these people to destroy their own property and I was getting paid a lawyer fee for it. Sounds like a dreamjob, doesn't it :thumbsup:
We had to come back the next day.
Finally into the shack. Of course, the joker had another booby trap inside that went off. Apart from some ear damage, no harm done.
In the shack, not the hundreds of thousands of euros the greedy heirs were expecting, but a wooden stool, some rotten material and a wooden box. This time, I stopped our hero in time. I firmly insisted nobody would touch that box and a week or so later, we had a specialist look at that box. There was a bomb in it. A real one this time. If it would have went off, we would all have died at the spot.
Some crazy old guy this one.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
:applause: Now that's more like it.
No wonder he wanted the "bad niece" to have it...
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Andres
There was a bomb in it. A real one this time. If it would have went off, we would all have died at the spot.
Some crazy old guy this one.
OMG. That looks like stuff from a book.
Anyways, ATPG, here you go: The Acts of Go(r)d
10 volumes of stories (The final volume is hidden) about the stupidity a video game clerk has to deal with his customers.
This will make you laugh a lot of times.
EDIT: Just one example from the Acts of Gord, which I have been re-reading again:
Quote:
More chip madness!
"Do you sell mod chips?"
"Go ahead, ask me what I sell."
"What do you sell?"
"I sell video games. What a stupid question."
"What does a mod chip cost?"
"Apparently one of us isn't keeping up."
"What do you mean?"
"If I sold you a mod chip, then you would never buy a game from me ever again. And that would be very much in opposition to my being able to run a profitable business."
"I just want one to play copied games."
"What? Do I look like an idiot? What the hell did you think I thought you wanted it for?"
"err…"
"Exactly. Now look, if I were to sell you a mod chip I would lose you as a customer. Now, if I were going to lose you as a customer I'd rather do it on a high note like setting you on fire. At least then I would have some satisfaction of a job well done."
"I'm leaving!"
"But I haven't set you on fire yet!"
Epic.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Truly awesome, thank you for the contributions. I like where this thread is going. :yes:
My favorite so far:
Quote:
Stolen Rental Game Love Action!
"I'd like to trade these games in please. What are they worth?"
"Given that they are my games that someone rented a couple days back, I'd say they are worth nothing. I'm sure the person who rented them will thank you for returning them for him."
"I bought those games! They aren't yours!"
"Sir, not only are the games still in my rental cases, but they are also labeled with security marker with my name on them."
"How about $20?"
"How about I wish you a good day?"
"Give me back my games!"
"You're not keeping up here. They aren't your games to keep."
"I'll phone the police."
"Fine. Go ahead. You can explain to them why you were trying to sell me stolen games. Last I checked, selling stolen merchandise that you know is stolen is illegal. You must be new to this crime thing."
And buddy left, never to return.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Andres
Some crazy old guy this one.
Realy? I think he was more of a magnificent bastard myself.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Andres
So, you could write a best-seller today. The next year, you can write a new best-seller in which you destroy everything you have written in the first one. And then you can continue that process for infinity.
Pizza's world view or The truth according to Pizza in 37 volumes, each volume completely different from the other ones. Should make for a fun read.
I'd buy those, as long as the price is reasonable and the money goes to the publishers, like 37.98 for the whole series and I pay 38.00 I want ATPG to get the .02$
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Veho Nex
I'd buy those, as long as the price is reasonable and the money goes to the publishers, like 37.98 for the whole series and I pay 38.00 I want ATPG to get the .02$
I would hand you a nickel and tell you to keep the change as your tip. Which I have done for my most beloved customers before.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Beskar
Quite off-topic material
VETO!!! VETO!!! NOT IN THIS THREAD!!!
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
My apologies Pizza, I will private message the person instead.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Jolt
Anyways, ATPG, here you go:
The Acts of Go(r)d
10 volumes of stories (The final volume is hidden) about the stupidity a video game clerk has to deal with his customers.
This will make you laugh a lot of times.
That was both extremely funny and extremely sad at the same time. I'm so glad I don't work retail.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Greyblades
Realy? I think he was more of a magnificent bastard myself.
He pissed all over himself, his car, etc.
not too magnificent :laugh:
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Centurion1
He pissed all over himself, his car, etc.
not too magnificent :laugh:
Hey he played by his own rules.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
While I was at university I worked on and off for a company that was an outsourced provider of administration services. So everything from call centres to share registrations to data input to blah blah blah.
I had several unedifying roles there but the two worst were:
- Working in the department that opened letters. There were large letter opening machines that you sat at and used foot pedals to pick up the next letter with a suction cup and position it in front of you where the blade would rip it open, you then manually took the contents out. Cheques went into a tray which was picked up by someone every now and again and everything else (including letters of complaint) went into a rubbish bin. The machine had a digital readout positioned right in front of your face which tracked how many letters you were opening per hour. Open more letters, line goes up, open less letters, line goes down. If the line goes flat you don't get paid for that period of time! Truly what Marx was talking about when he discussed the alienation of the worker.
- Working in the on-site office of a large warehouse. My job was to sit typing share certificates on an old typewriter which was positioned under a flickering flourescent tube light inside a large, locked room-sized cage (because the certs were valuable of course). I didn't have a key to the cage and when I wanted to get out (for the bathroom or for lunch) I had to ring a bell and someone would (eventually) come and get me. Everyone who worked at the warehouse would run their keys, mugs or whatever they were carrying long the bars of the cage as they walked by, all day every day. I lasted two days at this job...
Also soul destroying is cold calling people to try to sell them double-glazing...
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Veho Nex
I'd buy those, as long as the price is reasonable and the money goes to the publishers, like 37.98 for the whole series and I pay 38.00 I want ATPG to get the .02$
Two cents on a forty dollar retail price? Sounds about right for the standard royalty rate for published works. :shrug:
* tries to think up mean E-booby traps for Andres *
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
This thread has been a great read.
I want to reiterate just how COMMON it is for people to order pizza, then not be there because they had to run somewhere. Nevermind that maybe they could have just gotten a carry-out order and picked it up while they were out, and nevermind a call would have been nice so we wouldnt have to wait or make two trips.....
I also want to reiterate how common it is for people to order pizza on holidays, during terrible weather (blizzards/tornados), and then be upset that you are either closed or the delivery times are long. At my old store we had a call logger, and on Thanksgiving when we were closed we still got over 100 calls from regular customers, with the calls starting at 10 am and some calling back every 15 minutes, as if they were panicking and unable to eat.
Anyway, still waiting on my removable HD w/ my afghan pictures so I will go chronilogically:
PAPER BOY, age 11-14:
You know, maybe in the 60s or 70s being a paper boy was good for character and work ethic, but when I did it in the 80s, for a corporate owned paper, it was akin to child slave labor. I don't know what was worse, the paper company who expected me to give all my customers my home phone so they could call if their paper wasn't there by 6am and wak my parents, or the customers who wrote hot checks, told me to try back tomorrow to get paid, or outright did not answer the door when it came time to pay but wuld call me in to complain in a heartbeat if the paper was on the steps and not on the porch next to the door so their lazy fat butt might have to put on pants to get the paper in the morning.
The best was when the paper company tried to make the carriers enforce an ID policy to verify that checks were legit, and they tried to initially blame us for forged checks, as if a 13 year old is capable of checking the ID of a grown man.
Also my grades fell, I was harassed by all-night partiers when delivering at 4 am, I was robbed twice by Run DMC-lookin men twice my age, once while collecting fees and once at 5am while delivering Sunday papers, as if 13 year old boys usually carry cash at 5am on a sunday while working (he got $5, my donut money). On neither occasion did the paper company want to re-imbruse me, and subsequently made rules regarding how much cash or checks a paper boy could carry in order to be compensated, which meant that when I did collections at the first of the month I had to go back to my house to drop the money pretty much after every third house. I also got the mandatory "you kids today are so lazy..." speeches from many of the old people who demanded their newspaper be in their mailbox on their porch, or on the porch in the shade, or slid under the garage door, etc. This made for some comical rivalries and lots of newspapers on roofs or in dog feces.
The upside to the job is that I knew where all the hot girls lived; I saw lots of females in little or no clothing prancing around in living rooms and backyards when they thought no one was around; I was a paper boy during the period where the evening paper died, delivering my last one in 1986, so theres a little history there; I knew where all the hiding spots and escape rputes were for future brushes with law, thugs, and angry fathers who caught me in their daughters room at 11pm. And I always had cash, which grated my parents because they could not play allowance-extortion games with me and I had plenty of money for arcade games, movie rentals, and bicycles.
Next installment, Grocery Sacker, age 16
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Log Entry- A typical evening
So my night starts out in the typical manner. I get to the store and we're busy, and I am on the road right away. I clock in, and here we go at 4 dollars an hour. Let's get on the road with my car that needs new brakes but I can't afford them, so it's making a loud screeching noise whenever I need to slow down. That's a good sign.
Anyway, off I go, carrying orders worth 20, 30, 40, 50 dollars or more apiece, to feed presumably a person or two to a small family for one night, possibly with leftovers for a snack. You know, it's not the cheapest way in the world to eat dinner. You're paying a private company to order your food for you, ship it, refrigerate it, prepare it, cook it, cut it, box it, and hire a taxi to bring it to your doorstep, driven by a waiter who also doubles as a phone-answering dishwashing prep cook janitor. We get to the houses and of course, folks aren't home. You see, they ordered their food, and went to the store to get something, thinking somehow that the 30 minute delivery time which was called an estimate on the phone is an exact deadline, which if true, they were still late in meeting, but I was not.
So I am forced to wait as is company policy, and forced to use minutes on my phone informing the store what happened, as is company policy. I shut off my car and therefore the A/C and sit in the heat because gasoline is expensive. So just before their obligatory 5 minutes is over, they decide to show up (maybe), or I go back to the store. They get there and they apologize profusely for making me wait. (how kind) Then, they try to pay with a 100 dollar bill, thinking that I carry 80 dollars in bills in crime-infested neighborhoods after dark without any weapons or even pepper spray on my person. As everyone who has ever ordered pizza from Mizza Mut knows, we do not carry that much cash. Not even if you phone ahead and ask us to. That's called a setup for a robbery.
So I explain I don't have that much change, and they get upset at me for not being a walking ATM machine. Then comes the credit card. Of course, they didn't phone ahead to pay by card, so I don't have a credit card slip, and we still have to call the store and run the card. And we're calling them on MY cellular phone of course, wasting my minutes, and further wasting my time which I could be using to, I dunno, earn money.
So we call the store and run the card. When you pay by card, you're given the option of leaving a gratuity (roughly 50% of my income MUST come from gratuity, since I make 4 dollars an hour, and no one can afford to live on that when the living wage is over 7 dollars an hour) or stiffing me. On the credit card slip, you're supposed to fill out the tip, the total charge to your card, and then sign it. Well, I don't have a credit card slip, so I helpfully create one on your bill, and take the bill back to the store, to save me a trip and to save you a headache.
Right below the total on your bill, and right above the part of your bill that says "DRIVER GRATUITY NOT INCLUDED" in big honking letters, there's enough space for me to rig a credit card slip kind of deal. I write "gratuity" on the left, followed by a line, and "total" underneath that, followed by the line, and then there's already a big line at the bottom right above the printed part that says the gratuity isn't included, so I put an X next to that and ask you to sign it. I explain that this is what your credit card slip would look like if I had one.
So folks invariably just sign the bill and hand it back to me.
Which, by the way, leaves them wide open for credit card fraud, as your credit card slips allow you to add in a total, and it's not hard to write in my own numbers. I don't do that because I'm not a soulless scumbag, and if I'm going to rip someone off, it's not going to be for 3 dollars, I'd rather rob a bank and possibly live off of that one crime for a while without having to work. Furthermore, another driver did that at our store and got found out, fired, and nearly sent to jail, and Pizzaguy don't roll like that. He was fool enough to always write in tips and always make it for 5-10 dollars, like a moron. If you were to do that, you'd do it once in a great while, and for 2 dollars, because no one would ever know. And like I said, Pizza isn't a soulless scumbag, and I'm not an idiot, and I'm not idiot enough to commit fraud over two of your dollars, with a paper trail that leads directly back to me. Thanks, but I have several brain cells to rub together.
But it still ticks me off that people insult me by wasting my time, and turn their back to me with an opportunity for revenge, and don't even realize how dumb they're being. The moron got away with it for at least a couple months. That means out of the hundreds of people he ripped off in blatant fashion, it still took months to find out about it. I make it a point of letting people know that the credit card slip is "like a blank check" if you don't fill out "the total".
I'm not pointing at the tip and saying "pay me", but I am letting them know to at the very, very least, protect themselves from other jerks while they're being a jerk to me, because I'm a nice guy, if a bit irritated at them.
Then, I get the customary "thank you so much" or "preciate it" and I am told to "drive safe" or "have a nice night".
Really? You're thanking me? What for?
Did I help you move?
Did I babysit your cat while you were on vacation?
What am I doing which is worthy of your thanks?
Oh, you mean my job?
The job which I have in order to pay my bills?
Bills I can't pay because you're too cheap to pay me for bringing your food to you, and too lazy to go get it yourself and stop wasting my time, my phone minutes, wearing down my car, and trying my patience?
How am I supposed to have a nice night, exactly? With customers like you, it is indeed impossible.
And that's the typical, usual customer who is at least polite about ripping me off. This same thing happens to people who talk on the phone, don't give me any eye contact, or have their kids answer the door and pocket the obvious tip right in front of my eyes, which I can't say a darned thing about. It's really impolite to not even address me at all when I'm now doing you a personal favor at personal cost when I'm supposed to be earning enough to live in a rented bedroom in a bug infested dilapidated pile of garbage in the middle of a crack ghetto, and ride in style in my personal vehicle whose interior has been ruined because of my job and is now breaking down constantly.
But the other day I got just the sweetest customer you'd ever know. I remember it well.
So this lady orders about 80 dollars worth of food and drinks. It's late at night, about 10 or 11pm. I get to her house, and knock on the door.
The child answers the door, wearing nothing. Nothing at all. Had to be maybe 6 or so.
First of all, that's very safe, because there aren't pedophiles or anything like that. But you know, your parenting is your business.
Then several more kids come to the door, and they all want the pizza. They want it a whole lot. So they're trying to grab it from me. Some of the kids are trying to climb on me. But I play it cool.
The lady comes to the door. Incidentally, this woman is without exaggeration, about 500 pounds. How she's even walking is beyond me. And, may I add, I've seen people who are 300 and 400 pounds. I know the difference between overweight, fat, huge, really huge, and insanely huge. This lady was not one of the former. But her health is her business, and doesn't affect me at all. I just wanted to highlight what a charmer she was.
So I tell her hello and I ask to see her credit card. She's ordered before. In fact, I've delivered to her before. She knows what the deal is. Mizza Mut policy has been the same since the last time I worked there 4-5 years ago. And it was the same the last time I delivered to her.
At about this time, someone else pulls into the driveway in a truck, and walks up to the door. It seems to be some kind of plumber or repair person that this lady called, because she ignores me and starts talking to him about a leak or whatever, and after a minute or two of conversation, he goes inside.
She turns to me and asks me what I was waiting for, and I tell her I just needed to see the credit card for a sec to make an imprint. Gosh, this food is heavy, and Mizza Mut policy is to hold onto the food until I have accepted payment. It is VERY common for customers to short-change me (at least once a night), or not have the required credit card, and the policy is that we cannot accept payment without a credit card.
So she starts barking orders at her kids, walks away from the door, and starts ignoring me again. She doesn't come back with the card. When she does come back she asks me to please give her the food, because she's starving and her kids are starving.
Obviously she's starving. That's why the guy with the hot food anxious to hand it over to her because it is heavy has been her lowest priority for the past 7 or 8 minutes. It also explains her slim physique.
I nod politely and say "of course ma'am, not a problem at all, I just need to see that credit card real quick, and I'll be able to make an imprint, and we'll be all set!"
So she tells me to hand her the food. She drops some obscenities in there as well, but this is the .org, so I'll spare you the daisies.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but I have to follow Mizza Mut policy. I've been told by my bosses very explicitly that I'm supposed to take payment first and verify the card before I can do anything. I'm very sorry."
"What is your name?"
So I tell her my name.
"Well I don't want you delivering to my house anymore."
"Not a problem. I just need to see that card and I'll be on my way."
So, she hands me the card, and I make an imprint. This literally takes me less than 5 seconds because I do this all night long every night. During those five seconds, she again barks at me to hand me her food. I hand her the slip and ask her to sign it, and tell her I'll be on my way.
"Gimme the food!"
"Sure thing, I just need you to sign on the line to authorize this payment, and the meal is yours."
Well, she just stands there, not signing it. Great, she wants a freaking showdown with me over nothing, even though she's "starving" and her kids are "starving" and this food is heavy, and I've been polite and explained that it's not MY decision, it's store/company policy I'm obligated to follow unwillingly because it is my job to do so. Not because I LIKE standing out here holding heavy food with one arm and drinks, pen, and paper in the other. Not because she's such a charming person that I want to stay at her house for as long as humanly possible.
I don't really feel like watching her glare at me, so I pretend to be looking out for my car to see if anyone is trying to jack it. Which, by the way, is a legitimate concern for me since it already happened this year.
So she realizes her icy stares aren't working, so she finally stops being a child and signs the credit card slip and hands it to me. She has her food instantly, and I am gone.
That wasn't so hard. But of course, wasting my time, cussing me out, and generally being inconsiderate is worth putting up with for the zero tip I just earned. Here's some important information I didn't share with her because, you know, I wanted to leave quicker:
If you start dropping f-bombs on me, I don't have to put up with it. I have permission to just leave, with the food. I was being kind to this woman by putting up with her asinine behavior. What I get in return is her phoning up my boss and lying about me to my boss to try to get me fired, because I followed company policy as required, and as I explained. She claims I insulted her children.
Yeah, that would be pretty classy of me to do. That's how I get my jollies, picking on little kids in front of their mother in a customer service job, when I myself was picked on a lot as a child. That makes sense. I did no such thing.
If I were going to be rude to this woman, I had ample opportunities. And I would have directed it at her, for being such a horrible person, not her kids.
But hey, that still doesn't beat the next house. For the next house is the one wherein they've ordered before, and stiffed every driver we have before. This is the house wherein they've lied and gotten free pizzas before. They have numerous complaints on file, and none were legitimate to my knowledge. But policy is to keep delivering, because sometimes they do pay. On rare occasion.
So we deliver to them late at night the previous night, and they call in a complaint. Well, we were closed by then. So they called up the next day and they got a credit. So they ordered some more food. I deliver this food, and because of the nature of this customer, I double-check the food before I even get to the door to make sure it is perfect; hot, not slid around, absolutely perfect in every way. Then, at the door, after listening to her lie about what horrible service she always gets and how her order is always wrong (why do you keep ordering from us, then? Oh yeah, because Momino's Pizza said they wouldn't deliver to you anymore because you're an ***, so you HAVE to order from us).
So I put up with that obvious garbage and politely hand her her food. I give her absolutely NO reason to call in yet another complaint, because I don't want to have to argue with her, or hear her yell at me, or put up with more garbage than she's already putting us through. I bend over backwards to treat this person like they're our very favorite customer. I show her the food, ask her if it is excellent, and she says it is. And I even offer her some peppers and parmesan cheese, plates, napkins, the whole spiel. I am the model of a perfect waiter for this person, even though she doesn't deserve it in the slightest.
Well, she's very satisfied, and even leaves me the change for a tip. Oh goody, I'm impressed by your coins. But I take it and leave.
We get back to the store, and what do we find out? They're LIVID!!! Those wings I just showed her that she said was "excellent" were "dry, not enough sauce" and the pizza I just showed her which looked like it was on the commercial on TV was "overdone"!
Amazingly, she wants another pizza and wings remade. I did not see that coming. Company policy is, you can't have eaten more than half of the pizza or half of the wings, because (a) we want to see what we did wrong with your food so it doesn't happen again, and (b) if your food is that horrible and we're going to make it fresh for you, you shouldn't be eating all of it, because that means you enjoyed it, and (c) they've been ripping us off and we're aware of that. So you don't get free stuff every time, especially since your order was already discounted from the time before that, and the manager checked your food before it left.
So, we get back to the door, and we just want to trade the bad wings and half-pizza for the freshly made stuff that was made by the manager herself. But, instead of handing over the bad food which we ruined, they grab the wings and the pizza from the bag by force, and slam the door, almost. You see, the driver sees this sort of thing coming, because it happens. You're not exactly slick or creative, even if you think you are.
Well, after being threatened with mace and you go back to your car to call the police, we have to wait for the police to be involved. And then when they arrive, we get to go to the store with no tips in hand. And then later we get to get interviewed by the police, and earn no tips during this whole process. Then, since it was busy and we were effectively down a driver this whole time, the store is backed up and looks like trash and there's a mountain of dishes.
So, you get to go home poorer than when you started, after a nice long shift. No 8 hours for you, because this is the new economy where you work 11 hours without batting an eye, and do it again the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and go home to your bug-infested ghetto house to do your writeup for the mafia game you're hosting, and then fall asleep with the pizza (your only meal of the entire day) which you had to pay over 8 dollars for WITH your employee discount.
End log.
All events in this log are completely factual, although they took place on two different nights in the same week.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
You sound like a sad individual
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Strike For The South
You sound like a sad individual
I could always work the graveyard shift at the 24-hour McDonald's drive thru instead, and put up with a similar level of nonsense for a living wage of 7 dollars an hour. But, it turns out, I have decided to do this because I do get to listen to the radio while I work. So, we make compromises elsewhere. Besides, I'll be in management training shortly, which gets me off the road and pays better than 7 dollars an hour. I give up the radio in the process, but, someday we want to be able to afford to not live in the crack ghetto and maybe have a couple of kids before we die.
A pizza man can dream, can't he? :beam:
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Askthepizzaguy
I could always work the graveyard shift at the 24-hour McDonald's drive thru instead, and put up with a similar level of nonsense for a living wage of 7 dollars an hour. But, it turns out, I have decided to do this because I do get to listen to the radio while I work. So, we make compromises elsewhere. Besides, I'll be in management training shortly, which gets me off the road and pays better than 7 dollars an hour. I give up the radio in the process, but, someday we want to be able to afford to not live in the crack ghetto and maybe have a couple of kids before we die.
A pizza man can dream, can't he? :beam:
Eh, Life is hard enough without remembering all those who have slighted you
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Strike For The South
Eh, Life is hard enough without remembering all those who have slighted you
Don't worry Strike, I'm not looking for your sympathy. Just a few yuks from the folks who would be as entertained by the absurdity as I am. I do laugh this stuff off, or I wouldn't be working there.
I will suggest that your words of wisdom didn't take more than a few seconds of thought and aren't that useful to me, though. Thanks anyway. You can keep the change on that one, buddy.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Askthepizzaguy
Don't worry Strike, I'm not looking for your sympathy. Just a few yuks from the folks who would be as entertained by the absurdity as I am. I do laugh this stuff off, or I wouldn't be working there.
I will suggest that your words of wisdom didn't take more than a few seconds of thought and aren't that useful to me, though. Thanks anyway. You can keep the change on that one, buddy.
I was unaware I was not allowed to comment beyond "LOL"
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
you should do it like Anthony Bourdain and put out a tell all book called "Pizza Delivery confidential"..
:P
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
He's not sad. What's sad are 50% of the customers who order pizza for delivery, whether they do it unintentionally, or they are just trash, or they are just inconsiderate scum. What's sad is that most pizza companies take advantage of drivers knowing full well that customers will take advantage of drivers knowing full well that pizza companies take advantage of drivers.
There are, I kid you not, people who order pizza 5x a week and never, ever tip. There are, I kid you not, people who order pizza 2 minutes before close on a regular basis and freak out if they call 5 minutes after and you won't deliver to them. There are people who, I kid you not, make a living off of restuarants "customer satisfaction" policies and there are franchise owners who will allow this to happen because it costs the employees far more than it costs the owner, and very few corporate restuarants have the balls to outright ban a customer.
Delivering pizzas in college made me lose all hope for America. that's where it started.
But I will save my stories for myu entry.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Strike For The South
I was unaware I was not allowed to comment beyond "LOL"
Feel free, but suppose this was one of those lovely frontroom threads where someone is talking about their unfortunate track record with women. While allowable, it's not constructive to be like "well, did you ever consider that perhaps you're just hopelessly unattractive?" While this is a tongue-in-cheek thread jabbing customer absurdity, the situations are real, and comments like "life would be easier if you just ignore/forget the things that happen in it" are comments which are not well-thought out and are equally unwelcome.
Maybe you were in fact trying to be helpful. I just wouldn't start up an advice column anytime soon if that is the case. And if you weren't trying to be helpful, maybe you were trying to be funny. Again, I wouldn't recommend comedy as a career. Maybe you were trying to be less than kind, in which case, I'm still not impressed as I've heard far worse before. I give it 1 and a half stars.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
In most jobs where you come into contact with people, you'll be amazed at how dumb, rude and impolite a lot of them are.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Askthepizzaguy
Feel free, but suppose this was one of those lovely frontroom threads where someone is talking about their unfortunate track record with women. While allowable, it's not constructive to be like "well, did you ever consider that perhaps you're just hopelessly unattractive?" While this is a tongue-in-cheek thread jabbing customer absurdity, the situations are real, and comments like "life would be easier if you just ignore/forget the things that happen in it" are comments which are not well-thought out and are equally unwelcome.
Maybe you were in fact trying to be helpful. I just wouldn't start up an advice column anytime soon if that is the case. And if you weren't trying to be helpful, maybe you were trying to be funny. Again, I wouldn't recommend comedy as a career. Maybe you were trying to be less than kind, in which case, I'm still not impressed as I've heard far worse before. I give it 1 and a half stars.
Or maybe I'm on the tail end of a bender and felt the need to comment. No one ever considers the possibilty that maybe I've simply taken to many pills.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Andres
In most jobs where you come into contact with people, you'll be amazed at how dumb, rude and impolite a lot of them are.
Is the pay any good? :beam:
Yeah, I have worked a lot of people-related jobs. I've been a host at a restaurant, waiter, busperson, a telemarketer, greeter/sales associate, done store remodels where customers ask you for assistance while you're working... I haven't done medical stuff (having to deal with human bodily fluids) or police work (having to arrest drunk people/violent offenders, etc) or been a lawyer. But the low-paying stuff, I have done. I will say that pizza delivery is on a totally different scale from hosting, waiting, bussing, marketing, sales, or customer assistance. There just is no comparison at all.
That said, I do recognize that nurses, doctors, lawyers, police officers, soldiers (etc), these sorts of people go through a lot worse than I do. And horribly, with soldiers, the pay isn't all that much improved, when you first start. I'd have to rank soldier as the worst of the bunch, in terms of what's required of you, what you have to tolerate, and your working conditions. It's not just a job, nor even a career. It takes a pretty special person to volunteer to sit in the middle of the desert and get shot at for several years.
Props go to people with actual problems. It does make these sorts of struggles look silly by comparison. But people will gripe about their jobs, and I'd love to hear some more gripes, especially the funnier or more shocking ones.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Askthepizzaguy
Is the pay any good? :beam:
Yeah, I have worked a lot of people-related jobs. I've been a host at a restaurant, waiter, busperson, a telemarketer, greeter/sales associate, done store remodels where customers ask you for assistance while you're working... I haven't done medical stuff (having to deal with human bodily fluids) or police work (having to arrest drunk people/violent offenders, etc) or been a lawyer. But the low-paying stuff, I have done. I will say that pizza delivery is on a totally different scale from hosting, waiting, bussing, marketing, sales, or customer assistance. There just is no comparison at all.
That said, I do recognize that nurses, doctors, lawyers, police officers, soldiers (etc), these sorts of people go through a lot worse than I do. And horribly, with soldiers, the pay isn't all that much improved, when you first start. I'd have to rank soldier as the worst of the bunch, in terms of what's required of you, what you have to tolerate, and your working conditions. It's not just a job, nor even a career. It takes a pretty special person to volunteer to sit in the middle of the desert and get shot at for several years.
Props go to people with actual problems. It does make these sorts of struggles look silly by comparison. But people will gripe about their jobs, and I'd love to hear some more gripes, especially the funnier or more shocking ones.
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.
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Re: 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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
right i know about housing allowances. my father got it obviously and if you live in barracks thats like your housing allowance right?
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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!
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Moar job-related horror tales, plox.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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...
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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.
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
Pizza, did anything like this ever happen to you while you were a telemarketer?
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Re: Pizzaguy's log: On the job horror stories
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