CP: What are the worst deliveries? Mr. White: Hospitals. I don't have much fear there, but I just get a terrible feeling. Especially the Children's Hospital. What can you say? "Enjoy the pizza. Hope those tubes don't fall out of your kid tonight." And you can't even bitch about a shitty tip.
CP: Driving jobs often make people a little crazy, and on top of that you guys also have to deal with bad customers. Is rage a problem for you?
Mr. White: Just recently, I delivered to this woman. She seemed nice enough, but I could tell right away she was very particular. She had very neat handwriting. Anyway, she tried to give me an out-of-state check. I said, "Sorry, I cannot take that check." She said, "Fine, I don't want the pizza," and snapped the check back. Then she turned around and made a grab for the goods. We wrestled over that pizza long enough for me to think, "This is my life. I'm in my early 30s and I'm wrestling with some fucking woman over a pizza."
By the time I got control of the pizza, we were both breathing kind of heavily. And then she says, "Fine, I'll just pay you in cash!" She had cash the whole fucking time. I think it was a $19.25 pizza, and I just grabbed her 20 and left. So I actually got a tip.
Mr. Orange: I've had some full-blown shouting matches with people. When I'd get back to the shop, I would always give the boss a preemptive warning that a guy is going to call with a complaint. He would be ready for action. The guy would call and say something like, "I'm writing to the Better Business Bureau!" And my boss would say, "Fuck you, asshole! Write a letter to God!"
Mr. White: Last night, I had a guy go ballistic on me when I was explaining our check policy. He had a bald head, and it turned all red as he was screaming at me. His wife was just standing there. He was yelling about how he orders from us all the time, and how people in Kenwood don't write bad checks. He said, "I'm never going to order from you guys again!" I told him that was the best thing I heard all day. He was still screaming as I was walking out the door. Later on, I looked his house up on the web. It has an estimated market value of half a million dollars.
CP: Describe the ways a pizza man gets back at a hated customer.
Mr. White: Right before I quit delivering pizzas the first time, I went to this one apartment of real assholes--fratty, hip-hoppy guys who never tipped worth a shit and wrote checks from their mom's house in Burnsville or wherever. They had this fucked-up door. Sometimes the knob would fall off, and if they couldn't find it, they couldn't open the door. On my last delivery, the doorknob came out on my end. And I just said, Fuck this, and took it. I keep it as a trophy in my apartment.
CP: Who are the best tippers?
Mr. White: Waitresses, of course. They come home from work, and they've been on their feet all day and have made a load of money. They're the best. I've found the new condo people in Uptown are shitty tippers, and getting to the door can be a pain in the ass because of the weird layouts. Doctors are a real crapshoot. Sometimes you get the hip young doctor and he tips great. Sometimes the doctor stiffs you. I know one particular lawyer who always--always--tipped one dollar. I said, "You only tip the pizza man a buck?" From my point of view, being a good tipper is one of the greatest virtues a person can have.
Mr. White: A decent tip is three dollars. If someone orders something that costs eight bucks, maybe two. But three bucks as a general rule. And if it's a big order, or it's cold outside, you have to treat me right. A four-dollar tip makes me feel good. A five-dollar tip says you really care.
CP: How much do you make on an average night?
Mr. Brown: Eighty to 120 dollars.
CP: There's a major hidden cost of business in the pizza-delivery game--keeping your car running. Talk about your car histories.
Mr. Orange: I went through about twelve cars over five years. That's why I always liked the old dinosaurs. They're like tinker toys--easy to put together, easy to take apart.
CP: Do you have run-ins with the police? Are your vehicles legally registered? For instance, I have heard stories of various forms of chicanery when it comes to expired tabs.
Mr. Blue: What do you mean? Some kid threw a snowball at me, and it just so happened it covered my tabs. And it just so happened my tabs were expired.
Mr. Pink: I made some tabs on my computer using a digital camera. It was easy. You need the good-quality shiny paper. We did it for a friend's boat, my motorcycle, and I used it on my car for a while, too. You just have to get the right color photo paper. It's not identical to the real tabs. But at a glance you can't tell the difference.
[Asked about drugs]
Mr. Brown: For me, it's just a waste of a fucking buzz. It makes the shift go on too long. You've got to sit and listen to the people at work, asking all these weird questions. Being high around that sort of stuff is just too much for me. But if I worked at Domino's, I'd have to get fucking high just to put the outfit on.
Mr. Blue: I would have to get drunk and high. You know, there is this total caste system in pizza delivery. I'm 34 years old now, but when I pull up next to a Domino's driver, I'm always like, "Oh, you poor fucker."
Mr. Blond: I have never done it [smoked pot on the job]. I'm pretty straight. Someone once asked me, "How did you get this job? You're so normal."
CP: Let's talk about naked customers and sex.
Mr. Pink: Over the years, I've come across a lot of naked people. Unfortunately, they have mostly been guys. Sometimes it is just a pathetic situation. I vividly remember this one guy in a high-rise on Third Avenue. He came to the door in the wheelchair, wearing a filthy white T-shirt and nothing else.
Mr. Brown: I think a lot of people get their kicks from being half-naked in front of the pizza man. There was a gay couple I delivered to--the guy who answered the door was fully clothed. But then this other guy came dancing around the corner, wearing nothing but a T-shirt. He had money in his hand. And he was holding it down there [gestures to crotch] so I could get a good look. He was getting his kicks out of it.
Mr. Blond: Once I answered the phone at the restaurant to take an order. I could tell right away the caller was kind of drunk, but we were getting along. So I said, "I'm getting off pretty soon," and she said, "So am I." I thought to myself, I have got to make this run. When I finally get there, she's wearing a bathrobe that's open. She's completely naked underneath. So she pays for the pizza and says, "Do you want to come up?" I followed her into her apartment and she starts kissing me, nibbling on my ear and grabbing my ass.
Then she pulls me back into another, much darker room. I said, "Where are the lights? Turn on the lights!" I thought I was about to get robbed. All of a sudden, I hear two other voices in the bedroom--a guy and a girl. I guess they wanted a foursome.
Mr. White: I once took a delivery to a place on Emerson Avenue. The girl who ordered specifically asked for me to make the delivery. So I pounded on the door, and it turns out it was this girl who I had delivered pizza to a half-dozen times at about four different addresses. I also used to see her at rock shows. One time I got her into a show for free. I never knew her name, but somehow she knew mine. Anyway, she had a towel on, like she had been in the shower. She was super cute, and I'm thinking, "Oh, my God, this is it, this is it." You know the part, when the porn music comes on. Gung-ch-ch, gung-ch-ch. Then I looked at the shower, and I see this dude step out--big naked hairy hippie dude with his crank hanging out. And then I was like, "Oh, I see what's going on here." He came to the door, and said, "What's up?"
CP: Have any of you guys ever gotten laid on the job?
Mr. Pink: Yes. I was 19, working at this little joint near my mom's house. It was the last run of the night, to this kind of low-rent apartment complex in the suburbs. I knock, and this chick in her early 30s opens this door. She was kind of good-looking but kind of trashy. And she was totally naked. She goes through this little bead wall, and says, "Come in for a second. I've got to get the money." So I walked through the bead wall, and she's sitting on the couch, and says, "Want a drink?" By then it's clear what's going on. She made me some kind of drink, and we smoked some pot. She's totally naked and I'm in my little pizza shirt, and she says, exact words, "Do you have time for a quickie?" I told her, "I've got to go back to close the shop but I could come back."
She says sure, so I went to the store, shut down, and came back. So I'm fucking her and then all of a sudden she says really loudly, "Hey, come on out." And this fat dude comes stumbling through the bead door, stark naked, stroking his hard-on. I got the hell out of there. Then I went home and took a long shower.