OK, if you are in the know, you know that I got fired from my job as a bowling machinery technician for refusing to do unsafe work.
So, I had to come up with something fast, because I'm not the type to sit on my butt. And I did. I took a job at the local pizza joint running pies. Fortunately, I'm not using the Taurus for this. My little "pizza wagon" consists of a well-worn 1992 Chevrolet Beretta that has a 2.2L four-banger under the hood, and comes with a row-it-yourself gearbox. Plus, it's mostly blue. I'll toss up a pic later. Onto my first day on the job....
My first delivery.....to a well to do gated community, complete with entry guard. I have little patience for these type of things. So, somebody opened the gate with a remote, and I blazed the gate with 90 horsepower of fury. I make my delivery, collect my tip, and get back in the car. When I started it, I realized just how loud it was. My dad put one of these ricer exhausts on it, and I swear, it sounds like a Honda with a fart cannon. At least, that's when I realized it.
I get back to the exit, and Barney Fife is standing in the exit, anxiously awaiting me.
Barney: "You know what you just did was trespassing?"
Zorin: "That's funny. My boss, my customer, and your boss will probably not see it like that. In fact, they'll probably see this as you just trying to get it up because you had a bad day. We done here?"
My second delivery....right back to the same place.
Barney just looks up at me, and i look over at him.
Zorin: "What're the odds?!"
He simply opened the gate this time, no fuss no muss.
Things went pretty easily till a little later, when I got sent to a nasty section of town. I got stiffed on the tip, and it made me want to say some nasty things about the particular person I delivered to. Considering my wit has gotten me in trouble at least once or twice, I decided to let it ride. Got back, cashed out, and called it a day. Didn't do too bad, and more importantly, didn't get lost.
Place was jumping, and didn't get stiffed once. Using all 90 horsepower, and needing more. But the appearance of the car sure came in handy. I pulled up to one guy's place, and it looked to me like Uncle Escobar was deep in Colombian higher trading practices. But I could have cared less.
Uncle Escobar: "Jesus, look at that ****box. Here, man, take another dollar."
Like I said, the Beretta was mostly blue....if you discount the primer and rust top, and parts of the car where the paint is peeling off like a bad sunburn.
I get back, and one of my coworkers is grilling me about the Beretta. He told me that I should use a nicer car, and then I told him that he should try driving around in a ****box....it seems to help tips.
And, now, for the main event.....
They sent me to a re-run, one where the other driver couldn't make the delivery. Just my luck, it happened to be a bunch of drunks at a hotel. They told us one room number, and happened to be in another. So, they called, screaming for us to deliver to the other room, saying they wanted the pizza free, all that jazz. So my boss sends me to defuse the situation. This was probably a bad idea on everyone's part.
Drunk dude: "I swear, you goddamn pizza boys couldn't pour piss out of a boot."
Zorin: "Yessir, it'll be $21.64 this evening. I'm terribly sorry about the mix up."
Drunk dude: "$21.64? You mean I have to pay for this pizza, and this pizza, and some no-good dip**** to deliver it?"
Zorin: "Yeah....$21.64, and have some respect, or I'll kick your ass."
I got a thirty six cent tip from him......this job's gonna be fun, I tell ya what.
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