Oh YES and this story is good!
Back in my college days I worked as your typical friendly neighborhood delivery guy for a popular pizza chain. I enjoyed it pretty well, the tips were good for the most part and I could work fewer hours and make more than most of my friends.
Now with the job of course I deal with quite a lot of different people, but mostly the worst to deal with were the people who didn’t tip or people who would try to take advantage of “the system”. (You know the type, eat half their pizza, only to miraculously realize that the order was not up to their “standards” and demand a refund) -nothing that bad or that hard to deal with.
Now a little back story.
At this particular pizza chain it is standard practice to include a pepperoncini in the box with your freshly baked pizza
(For those that don’t know this is what they look like)
So about 30 minutes before the end of my shift, I get routed on a delivery to a decent neighborhood. I’m familiar with the area so it doesn’t take me long to find the house. The order was simple: two large pepperoni pies. I walk up to the house and knock on the door.
I am greeted by the customer Mr. Ignoramus in a rather tepid manner. He takes the first pizza from me, opens it, and just sits there and stares. I can visibly see his face darken to a shade of crimson as an expression of what can only be described as epileptic rage crosses his face.
“I TELL THEM PEOPLE EVERY TIME I ORDER MY PIZZA I DON’T WANT THE DAMN PEPPER!”
I give him a blank stare.
“I HATE THE PEPPER! HOW HARD IS IT TO REALISE THAT? I DONT WANT IT, HERE-(He the proceeds to take the pepperoncini out of the box and places it in my hand)-I DONT WANT THIS F**KING SH*T - YOU TAKE IT BACK.”
He snatches the second box and take the second pepper out and throws it at me, then slams the door.
-I’m in pure shock and disbelief, wondering what in the DSM-5 I just witnessed. I get back in my car and head back to the store. I hand my tips and receipts to my manager for counting, and I head to the back to do dishes.
This is where it gets good!
While back there I grab one of the plastic bags we use to carry 2 liters of soda when someone orders them and take advantage of my distracted manager. I quickly fill the bag to the BRIM with peproncinis and place it outside via the back door. Once I finish the dishes and collect my tips, I go outside, retrieve my bag of peppery goodness, and get into my car. It’s about 10:00 PM at this point.
Under the cover of nightfall I return to Mr. Ignaramus’s house, and quickly run out, and proceed to scatter hundreds of pepperoncinis all over his front porch, sidewalk, and lawn. It was a moment I had never been more absolutely certain of in my entire life! I run back to the car and drive home.
I would have paid good money to see this clown’s reaction. Unfortunately I had a drill weekend that weekend for the national guard.
When I returned, my manager could hardly contain his laughter. On his desk were plastic sandwich bags of the peppers and a note with the total count (yes this goober had nothing better to do than pick up all of the peppers and count them) He asked me if I knew where they came from.
”No idea” He gave me a grin of knowing better, laughed to himself and said “I’m sorry to do this but I’m gonna have to let you go at the end of the week.”
”I completely understand.”
He thought it was hilarious, as did my co-workers. I regret absolutely nothing, and to this day when I order pizza from that chain, and I tell people I am the “pepper guy” they recognize me with much laughter and excitement. I apparently became somewhat of a legend.
====================EDIT====================I’m so glad to see this story brought smiles to so many people’s faces! I’ll try to share some more as I see questions I have good stories for!