"Go ahead and call my parents" "Okay then I will!" (xpost from /r/maliciouscompliance) TalesFromThePizzaGuy

Hey all, I posted this in /r/maliciouscompliance and thought you guys might like it. I'm not a driver but work cash and phones at a pizza place. Shitty formatting because I'm on mobile but I hope you enjoy!

The Background: This happened a few hours ago. I work at a large chain of pizza restaurants. Let's call it Pominos Dizza. Like most places, we get a few prank calls a week from pre teens. Usually it doesn't bother me and I'll go along with it because it gives me something to do when it's slow. But being a Friday night, we were busy and I wasn't having it. Me will be me, and K will be kid.

The events: Me: Hi thanks for calling Pominos Dizza, how can I help you tonight? K: trying but not succeeding in holding in his laughter Hey is Mr Wall there? Me: Um no sir there isn't one that work here. K: What about Mrs. Wall? Me: Nope none of those either K: Then how is your building standing up?! K: laughter from him and background

This went on a couple more times with classics such as "can I place an order to your sisters house?" And the CLASSIC "is your refrigerator running? Then you better go get it!!!" Finally I had had enough. I let the kids know I was done playing games.

Me: alright look it says here that your dad's name is dads name (we keep names and addresses of past customers and their orders in the computer for future orders just to speed up the process) If you don't stop this I'll give him a call and let him know what's been going on.

Usually this would stop the kids. I knew it did back in my earlier days of being a dumb kid. But some people just can't be bothered and have to push the envelope a bit too far.

K: I know you won't. Go ahead and call him.

Oh boy he didn't have to ask me twice. I hang up the phone and get back to work for a little bit, knowing that the kid will be camped at the phone to answer it for the next 15 minutes or so.

The compliance: I get back to work, free of prank calls from the kid. I should of left it there, having solved the problem, but hey the customer is always right and at Pominos Dizza we always give the customer what they want. After the supper rush is done, around 45 minutes to an hour later I fulfill the request. I'm still me, D is dad.

Me: Hello this is u/kushlord666 from pominos, how are you doing tonight. D: not too bad, what's the reason for the call? Me: unfortunately, we've been getting a number of calls from this number. We're really busy and its pushing customers away because of the wait times. Can you please have a talk with who I assume is your son and ask him to knock it off? D: Oh goodness I'm so sorry I'll have a chat with him and his buddies. Me: Thank you so much and thanks for choosing pominos!

At this point I think the story is done. Kid will get a talking to, won't do it again and that'll be the end of it. Boy was I mistaken.

Around 30 minutes later a man and a chubby kid around 12 years old come into the store. I don't think much of it, thinking they're just getting a few slices for a snack. They come up to the counter and ask for u/kushlord666.

Me: Yes I'm u/kushlord666 D: I think my son has something to say to you. The kid is visibly nervous. He keeps looking around the store, won't look me in the eye. K: I'm very sorry for calling you, I know you're busy and it won't happen again.

Then to further the awkward suffering of the kid who I kind of feel bad for at this point, the dad places an order for carry out, and sits in our small eatery section where the kid has to try and avoid eye contact with me for the next 20 minutes. Left me a good tip too. At pominos dizza, the customer always gets what they want.

Tl;Dr: Kid prank calls my store while I'm busy, dares me to call his parents. I give him what he wants. Gets forced by angry father to come in and apologize and brood in awkward suffering as I make them their pizza, while I got the last laugh and a 50% tip.

Submitted November 11, 2017 at 08:27PM by Kushlord666 http://ift.tt/2i4D42z TalesFromThePizzaGuy

Tales from an 80s Pizza Guy, part the third TalesFromThePizzaGuy

Though I last delivered a pizza in 1989, this is probably my favorite sub. I like hearing from the people still in the trenches and thought some of them might like to hear my stories from way-back-when. Here are my Tales from the Pizza Guy.

Walnut Creek

While delivering in Santa Barbara, I realized I wanted to change schools, so I began the process of transferring to UC Berkeley. I also realized I had not been able to save up enough money to get back to school that Fall, so I decided to take a year or two off. I moved back to the San Francisco Bay Area and lived with my mom and younger brother in the small house she was renting. I tried to find a different job for a while but I ended up driving for Domino’s again. I didn’t stay a driver for long, however. The area supervisor asked me to move inside, so I became an Assistant Manager (a huge drop in pay anyone will tell you -- but I was on track to be a Store Manager -- I guess the term for that on this sub is “GM”).

I worked as Assistant Manager under a couple different Store Managers -- this franchisee was opening new stores every year and was promoting from within, so there was a lot of movement in management. I finally became manager of that store a month or two later. One week the crew in the store was held up at gun-point. The manager was in the store at the time and was shaken up, but OK. One week later, a driver was having a party and I had asked the manager to cover my shift. He agreed -- and had a gun held to his head again that night. I stopped by the store after the party and he handed me the keys and walked out. I never saw him again. The store was (actually still is) across from a gas station, and the police placed an undercover officer in the booth of the gas station for a few weeks after that, but we weren’t robbed again.

Brett was one of our drivers and a character that is hard to forget. He once told me “I could be smart like you if I didn’t do so many drugs.” This is before cell phones, so store managers had pagers. We had a code, 411 meant you should call when convenient, 511 was call back ASAP, 911 was stop what you’re doing and call (666 meant there had been an injury -- fortunately I never saw a “666”). One day I get a 911 page from the store. When I call, it was Brett, off-duty, who sent the page. He asks me if he can borrow $50 from the store, saying “I need $50 today or I WILL go to jail.” I told him that I couldn’t let him borrow from the store, but I’ll personally loan it to him, and to just leave an IOU in the till. When I get to the store later that evening I find an IOU in the till for $80. He’d first written “$50” and signed it, but then wrote “+$30 Thanks!” under that. I actually know Brett’s last name because he never paid me back and I still have the IOU somewhere.

There was a phone girl at this store named Stacey. She was very young (I think 14 or 15), but she was smart. She was smart and beautiful, but had a horrible home life from what I gathered (even having excema on her arms from stress). You just want to wrap someone like that in your arms and take them away from everything. As manager I always liked to give the women more responsibility -- I felt that too often they were looked over by the men in charge. Stacey was too young to open on her own, but there was another phone girl who was a little older, and I told them they could open the store together. It worked out well, and one day I came in and the two of them were giggling about something. I asked what it was, and Stacey told me that the other girl (I’ve forgotten her name) would always take off her top when prepping the sauce -- she didn’t want to get sauce on her uniform shirt or bra. Let’s just say my mind wandered on that one for a while.

I think Stacey sensed the paternal feelings I had for her. She told me more than once that I would make a great dad.

This store had been around for a while and was a little grimy. The area supervisor decided we would have an all-hands-on-deck clean-up party. We would close early one night, and clean the whole store. “All hands on deck” meant that even managers and staff from the franchisee’s other stores would be there (I think he had six or eight stores at this point). As incentive, the supervisor decided we would have a keg in the walk-in. Here is a lesson for everyone. If you want to use beer as an incentive, be sure that it is very clear that the beer doesn’t come out until the job is done. I think the store actually looked worse after the great clean-up party fiasco. On the plus-side, a walk-in refrigerator is a great place for a keg!

One of my most awkward moment at Domino’s happened at this store. We had needed to call back an order to check on something and discovered the phone number was incorrect. There wasn’t much we could do until the customer called 40 minutes later. Apart from getting the information for the order, we learned that the phone number on the slip had two numbers reversed. I joked to the driver who had taken the order “have you been dyslexic for long?” An hour or so later he pulled me aside and said “I am, you know.” I must have looked confused because he repeated it, “I’m dyslexic.” I think I said something like “Oh, I’m sorry,” and then made sure he double-checked his orders.

One evening this guy called the store four or five times asking for “Rochelle.” It was pretty clear what had happened, but he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer and grew increasingly hostile. I wonder if “Rochelle” was even her real name. I figure she was a somewhat regular customer since she had our number memorized enough to give it to guys who were pestering her.

To be continued...

Submitted January 24, 2017 at 06:20PM by ADeweyan http://ift.tt/2jY4MAb TalesFromThePizzaGuy

An awkward delivery to Ms. Shirley. TalesFromThePizzaGuy

There are certain customers that you deliver to who stick out for whatever the reason might be? You remember them even years after your last delivery to them.

For me, one of those customers happens to be Ms. Shirley.

Ms. Shirley is a single older woman, probably in her late sixties to early seventies? She's hooked up to oxygen and partially disabled. She lives in one of those affordable living apartment buildings with income adjusted rents. Primarily old people, disabled, etc.

She's a sweet old woman. She might be Native American, because she's given me those Indian "Dream Catchers" that you're suppose to hang over your bed a few times after she forgets she's already given me a couple already.

I've been delivering to her regularly for four years. Sometimes four days per week. Usually it's smaller orders in the afternoon when we're not too busy. However, she's one of our best delivery customers. I counted 50 deliveries to her since May this year! The best thing about her is you can show up two hours late and she could care less. Just happy to have her food.

Unfortunately, she's on limited income and food stamps, and she's almost never tips. Never for the first three years, anyway. Fortunately she's less than a mile from the store, so it's not too much of an inconvenience. Plus, better to get out for a few minutes when it's slow rather than be stuck working in the store.

Over the years, we've established a business friendship, I guess you could say? We always chat for a few minutes and maybe share a joke? You can tell she's pretty lonely and happy to see somebody? I figure it's the least I can do to brighten her day before the grim reaper inevitably comes calling.

In the time I've delivered to her, I've routinely taken her mail to the drop box. I've taken out the trash, and even helped get her Christmas decorations out of her bedroom closet one time. Even when I know there's almost never a tip! I guess I look at as a small thing I can do to help somebody else in need? Doing a good deed. I'll occasionally bring her free food that's going to be thrown in the dumpster, anyway. Usually it's after I've delivered the day before and she tells me she's going without medication this week because she needs to have enough money to eat. Her refrigerator is always close to empty.

Ms. Shirley has a problem though.... Probably more than one, but I don't know exactly what her medical conditions are? The problem is leakage. Not like leaking pipes in the place, but leaking bowels to be exact! Perhaps accompanied by some bladder incompetence?

When I've delivered in recent months, I couldn't help but notice the strong oder of human urine. It got increasingly worse every visit. Eventually, the smell of feces gradually started mixing into the aroma wafting through the small closed up apartment. As the weeks went on, I started to see urine and dung stains on the carpets. One time there was even a poo footprint coming out of the bathroom! The oder was becoming so overwhelming it wasn't pleasant to be in there very long.

One day I come over for a delivery. We have a chit chat for a few minutes, and as I'm leaving she stops me and asks me I can answer a question? She wants me to be completely honest.

She asks if there's any kind of bad oder in the apartment? She says the building manager had stopped by on complaints of a foul smell. When she came into the apartment to investigate, they were alarmed by the smell and told the woman she had a week to remedy the problem and they would be coming back to follow up!

I didn't even know how to answer! I couldn't be completely honest! I thought as quick as a could, and the first thing out of my mouth was that " No, maybe a little musty? I've been in much worse. You probably just need to open the windows and get some air flowing through?" I pretend to keep sniffing the air very nonchalantly, acting like I can barely notice anything.

I assured her that it wasn't that bad and went on acting completely ignorant of the problem. I was never so glad get out of there. It was more awkward than walking in on your parents having sex!

A week goes by and she orders again. I go over, she buzzes me in, and I come into the living room. She's sitting in her chair with a blanket over her lap. It appears things have been cleaned up? Oder isn't as strong. She doesn't bring up the topic again.

As we go to do our transaction, she drops her credit card under her seat and has to swivel around to pick it up. It's then that I notice she's completely naked from the waist down! I'm staring right down her pale, wrinkled and overweight butt crack! -think 65 year old cottage cheese- All the blanket covered was her lap! I almost lost my lunch. She was completely oblivious to the fact she was essentially naked and giving me a damn good look. All the while I'm maintaining a straight face and keeping my composure. Acting like there's nothing out of the ordinary. She's usually pretty sharp! How can she be oblivious, I'm thinking to myself?

She seemed a little slower that day? I'm not sure if she was on pain pills, maybe? Perhaps I was standing on top of her oxygen hose too long? (I did do that once before) It hasn't happened again since, though! Regardless, I'll never forget what I saw! The smells of human excrement and urine suddenly didn't seem so bad. A first world problem.

I've continued to deliver to her regularly. Fortunately, at least up to this point there hasn't been a repeat of the incident. I guess there's always tomorrow, though?

Submitted September 22, 2015 at 12:24AM by DominosGoneIndy http://ift.tt/1FpNnpJ TalesFromThePizzaGuy

An awkward delivery to Ms. Shirley. TalesFromThePizzaGuy

There are certain customers that you deliver to who stick out for whatever the reason might be? You remember them even years after your last delivery to them.

For me, one of those customers happens to be Ms. Shirley.

Ms. Shirley is a single older woman, probably in her late sixties to early seventies? She's hooked up to oxygen and partially disabled. She lives in one of those affordable living apartment buildings with income adjusted rents. Primarily old people, disabled, etc.

She's a sweet old woman. She might be Native American, because she's given me those Indian "Dream Catchers" that you're suppose to hang over your bed a few times after she forgets she's already given me a couple already.

I've been delivering to her regularly for four years. Sometimes four days per week. Usually it's smaller orders in the afternoon when we're not too busy. However, she's one of our best delivery customers. I counted 50 deliveries to her since May this year! The best thing about her is you can show up two hours late and she could care less. Just happy to have her food.

Unfortunately, she's on limited income and food stamps, and she's almost never tips. Never for the first three years, anyway. Fortunately she's less than a mile from the store, so it's not too much of an inconvenience. Plus, better to get out for a few minutes when it's slow rather than be stuck working in the store.

Over the years, we've established a business friendship, I guess you could say? We always chat for a few minutes and maybe share a joke? You can tell she's pretty lonely and happy to see somebody? I figure it's the least I can do to brighten her day before the grim reaper inevitably comes calling.

In the time I've delivered to her, I've routinely taken her mail to the drop box. I've taken out the trash, and even helped get her Christmas decorations out of her bedroom closet one time. Even when I know there's almost never a tip! I guess I look at as a small thing I can do to help somebody else in need? Doing a good deed. I'll occasionally bring her free food that's going to be thrown in the dumpster, anyway. Usually it's after I've delivered the day before and she tells me she's going without medication this week because she needs to have enough money to eat. Her refrigerator is always close to empty.

Ms. Shirley has a problem though.... Probably more than one, but I don't know exactly what her medical conditions are? The problem is leakage. Not like leaking pipes in the place, but leaking bowels to be exact! Perhaps accompanied by some bladder incompetence?

When I've delivered in recent months, I couldn't help but notice the strong oder of human urine. It got increasingly worse every visit. Eventually, the smell of feces gradually started mixing into the aroma wafting through the small closed up apartment. As the weeks went on, I started to see urine and dung stains on the carpets. One time there was even a poo footprint coming out of the bathroom! The oder was becoming so overwhelming it wasn't pleasant to be in there very long.

One day I come over for a delivery. We have a chit chat for a few minutes, and as I'm leaving she stops me and asks me I can answer a question? She wants me to be completely honest.

She asks if there's any kind of bad oder in the apartment? She says the building manager had stopped by on complaints of a foul smell. When she came into the apartment to investigate, they were alarmed by the smell and told the woman she had a week to remedy the problem and they would be coming back to follow up!

I didn't even know how to answer! I couldn't be completely honest! I thought as quick as a could, and the first thing out of my mouth was that " No, maybe a little musty? I've been in much worse. You probably just need to open the windows and get some air flowing through?" I pretend to keep sniffing the air very nonchalantly, acting like I can barely notice anything.

I assured her that it wasn't that bad and went on acting completely ignorant of the problem. I was never so glad get out of there. It was more awkward than walking in on your parents having sex!

A week goes by and she orders again. I go over, she buzzes me in, and I come into the living room. She's sitting in her chair with a blanket over her lap. It appears things have been cleaned up? Oder isn't as strong. She doesn't bring up the topic again.

As we go to do our transaction, she drops her credit card under her seat and has to swivel around to pick it up. It's then that I notice she's completely naked from the waist down! I'm staring right down her pale, wrinkled and overweight butt crack! -think 65 year old cottage cheese- All the blanket covered was her lap! I almost lost my lunch. She was completely oblivious to the fact she was essentially naked and giving me a damn good look. All the while I'm maintaining a straight face and keeping my composure. Acting like there's nothing out of the ordinary. She's usually pretty sharp! How can she be oblivious, I'm thinking to myself?

She seemed a little slower that day? I'm not sure if she was on pain pills, maybe? Perhaps I was standing on top of her oxygen hose too long? (I did do that once before) It hasn't happened again since, though! Regardless, I'll never forget what I saw! The smells of human excrement and urine suddenly didn't seem so bad. A first world problem.

I've continued to deliver to her regularly. Fortunately, at least up to this point there hasn't been a repeat of the incident. I guess there's always tomorrow, though?

Submitted September 22, 2015 at 12:24AM by DominosGoneIndy http://ift.tt/1FpNnpJ TalesFromThePizzaGuy

The Story of a Man and a Pizza and a Truck and a Fish ... TalesFromThePizzaGuy

(originally posted over at my blog - thought you guys might like it)

Back in the early 90’s, when our daughter was small and we were dirt poor, my husband Dave worked a night job as a Sustenance Transportation Engineer, also known as a Domino’s Pizza Delivery Boy. Not the most glamorous job in the world, but between the hourly wage and tips it helped us to get by. After his shift he usually came home late at night exhausted, greasy, and smelling of stale pizza. One night, though, he came home with something else: a good story.

Several hours earlier Dave was booking around his route in our Toyota pickup when he delivered two pizzas to a house he hadn’t visited before. A man in his late twenties answered the door with a beer in his hand. As he was paying, the man peered outside and said, “Hey, you have a truck. I’ll give you twenty bucks if you help me out. I’ve got to get rid of my fridge tonight. It was full of fish and it quit on me. I can’t take the smell anymore.” Sympathetic, Dave said, “Dude, I’d like to help you, but I can’t. I’m on the clock.”

“Come on, I’ll give you thirty bucks and my buddies and I will load it up.”

Dave was tempted. “Look, I have runs waiting for me back at the shop. I get off at midnight – I’ll come back then.”

“No, man, I’ve got to get rid of it now. I’ll give you fifty bucks and a six-pack of beer if you take it right now.”

Now this was too good to resist. “You got yourself a deal.”

Dave stood by while the man and his friends scooted the refrigerator out to the truck. As they were loading it in the back, the door popped open and stinky fish guts splashed over the guys’ pants. Whew! The smell was, to say the least, BAD.

Dave collected his money and his beer, jumped in the truck, and took off, wondering what to do with the disgusting appliance. Then it hit him. He stopped by the side of the road, pulled the Domino’s Pizza sign off the truck’s roof and peeled the company shirt off. He then proceeded to enter an alley behind the house of a frequent pizza customer whose house was at the edge of the delivery area, and who never tipped the drivers. Unwisely, the occupants of that house had not put a fence around their back yard.

As quietly as possible, Dave jumped out of the truck. The refrigerator was positioned in the truck bed in such a way that Dave was able, with a little elbow grease, to push it off into the customer’s back yard. The door popped open again, letting out the foul aroma.

Dave leaped into the truck and zoomed away, quite pleased with himself for this inventive solution to his problem.

He feels no guilt even today.

The moral to this story is: always tip your friendly neighborhood Sustenance Transportation Engineer.

Submitted November 17, 2014 at 05:00AM by catzenjamba http://ift.tt/1A4Fkum TalesFromThePizzaGuy