Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Everything I Know about Sex I Learned While Working at Papa John’s

In a previous post I admitted to working the delivery circuit for Papa John’s. Other than the importance one duck’s life can have, I learned about the pizza biz, where the missing link operates, and what people will do for a two dollar tip. I also learned quite a bit about the sex. I share with you now three lessons I’ve learned.

1. Smoking Weed Can Cause You to Lose Your Inhibitions, and Misplace Things: On a Friday night one of my last deliveries was a few pizzas to this cookie cutter home. After knocking, the door quickly opened releasing a cloud of pungent smoke. As the cloud hovered around me, I noticed the smoke had a familiar odor. Seeing the group of teenagers giggling while trying to hide their bongs confirmed my suspicion. The girl who answered the door giggled a little more as the transaction of money for pizza was made. Counting the money confirmed my second suspicion that there was no tip. Frustrated, I pocketed the money and said “Thanks” in my now perfected sarcastic tone. She then batted her eyes and said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” I checked the order slip to see if I forgot a 2 liter or extra dipping sauce. I had gotten the order right. “Don’t you want your tip?” she asked, following it up with a louder giggle. Her eyes led me down to her cleavage. Sure enough, sticking out between her breasts was some folded up money. It was one of those, “I’m on Candid Camera” moments. But, since my livelihood relied on tips, it became a real life reenactment of the game Operation. With my steady hand, I went for the money implant being careful not to touch the sides. After the successful retrieval, I quickly walked to mat car as the girl said “Have a good night.” The real bummer of it all was that I did all that for what ended up being only a dollar tip. I should have left it there.

2. Apparently Your Wife/Girlfriend’s Nudity Can Be Used as Currency: I went to deliver a pizza to a pretty nice neighborhood, and was expecting a decent tip. It was one of those “drunk man villages” where every townhouse looks the same. Standing at the door, I knocked, and knocked, and knocked. No answer. Following delivery protocol, I went to a phone and called, and called again, and called again. No answer. There’s nothing like wasting gas and time on a “No Show.” So, I went back to the store, and started closing up. Sure enough the people that ordered the pizza called a half hour later asking for their pizza. Their excuse was that they had a bunch of kids over for a party and couldn’t hear the door or phone. I thought maybe I had gone to the wrong townhouse. It was a “drunk man village” after all. Arriving at the townhouse, I realized I was right the first time. Again there were no lights on. I knocked and a yuppie wearing only boxers and a layer of sweat opened the door. Shudder. He apologized and used the “kids party” excuse again. Only this time he said it as joke. He gave me his money, and I gave him his pizza. As the exchange took place, I noticed a slight giggle from beyond the doorway. The yuppie looked to his left and said, “Honey, why don’t you give him the tip.” Sure enough, a tall stunning brunette stepped into the doorway. She was wearing a robe and panties, and that’s about it. I thought she could have been wearing a bra. The fact that she wasn’t was made clear when she opened her robe as she handed me the money. Yeah, no b-b-b-bra. She chuckled as my eyes nervously looked for a location that wasn’t baring flesh. I stuttered thanks and went back to my car afraid the word “threesome” would be uttered. The tip though was actually pretty good, and yes I’m talking about the money.

3. People Will Offer You Anything for Free Pizza: It was one of those rare days, where I was brought in early to work. I was delivering a small pizza to another townhouse in another drunk man’s village. As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a group of kids loitering around. The oldest of the group was a girl that could’ve just had her 13th birthday. She couldn’t have been older than that. Seeing the Papa John’s sign (read: target) the kids clamored. “Pizza!” “Where are you going?” “Are you going to my house?” “Don’t go there. I want it.” “Do you have any free pizza?” They started following me up the stairs, as I kept answering no. After dashing their hopes for free pizza, I heard, “I’ll let you fuck me up the ass for that pizza.” Sweet Mother Hubbard! It was the older girl in the group. Any hope I had for our future generations was quickly snuffed out. I’m sure she was joking, but for that to come out of her mouth. Flabbergasted, I just delivered the pizza, and went to my car. They then begged me for some cigarettes. No, I didn’t give them any.

There’s three valuable lessons that I hope help you as they’ve helped me. If you are actually able to apply these lessons, please don’t let me know.


bobby said...

These stories never fail.

As you know, I delivered pizzas for a year and a half in high school. On this issue I feel that you and Tim and I have a special bond of humiliation.

Once I delivered to a house that said they had not ordered. I went back to the store, got a call from a furious customer wanting their pizza -- that address again. Turns out my town had two addresses exactly the same, only clear across town from each other. These are the events that shape a man.

MOL Junior said...

i agree...i've heard these live, but i giggled just now like i'd never heard them before when i read them.

that is a long and confusing sentence but i'm leaving it anyway.