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article written with Eugene Peppers for pizza and pasta magazineoctober 25, 1993 From the moment you place your order to the time your doorbell rings (if it’s working), a lot transpires in the often perilous world of Pizza Delivery. Working for a local pizza delivery operation on the University of Illinois Champaign/Urbana campus, we serve about 35,000 students and 10,000 residents in a two-mile radius. On a ten-hour shift I can deliver about 200 pizzas to about 100 different addresses, through rain, snow, ice, and even waist-high floods. No matter what the conditions are, if the car can’t make it, the driver has to take it the rest of the way, and the deliverers are the ones who have to keep working for hours after nearly swimming to get the pizza to the customer. The point is that there are a lot of hazards to the business, even if you have some interesting stories to tell a few years down the road. Here are a few things you have to be careful about... • Theft. Aside from the occasional pizza stolen from my car, no one has really mugged me, but I have had my car stolen. Helpful Hint: leaving a key in the ignition is not a smart idea, even if you lock all the doors and carry the door key with you. On a particularly long delivery, waiting to receive payment, I came to my car to find it gone. With one more pizza to deliver, I ran five blocks to the next stop, then called the police. The car was recovered a week later and two miles away. I have also worked with people who been robbed: one was hit over the head with a baseball bat from behind, one was held up at knife point, one at gun point. Once I was even punched in the chest just for walking up to a door to make a delivery. I think I walked into a racial street fight and not a potential robbery. The tip: fifty cents. • Accidents. There are a lot of stories here (honest, it’s not my driving), so here’s a case-by-case synopsis. Case One: Car vs. Car. One time, at a two-way stop, a car stopped, but then proceeded to drive right in front of me. His bumper ended up 200 feet down the street. Another time a car hit the brakes and swerved in the middle of an intersection with a green light (he said it was to avoid glass). At least I didn’t shatter his rear windshield when I hit him from behind. Case Two: Car vs. Ambulance. Ambulance wins. Imagine: it’s 3 a.m., I’m approaching a major intersection at 30 mph, and have a green light. Because of the apartment building to my right, I didn’t notice the ambulance barreling toward me (not having it’s sirens or lights on didn’t help, either). Front end of car totalled. Thank goodness (God?) for seatbelts. Case Three: Car vs. Drunk Drivers. It is customary for cars parallel parked to yield to oncoming traffic before pulling out. However, after who knows how many beers, drivers start to make up their own rules. Damage to my car: front right end smashed. Damage to his car: it was disabled, but the real damage was the fact that he was driving a friend’s uninsured car on a revoked license. Case Four: Car vs. ... well, the street, or other bizarre obstacles. Like open manholes. No, I didn’t see it, due to the fact that there was two feet of flood water draining into it. Lost two tires, and had a hard time explaining what happened on the insurance report. • Tipping. Although tipping is considered socially responsible (especially in large amounts), on a college campus, most everyone claims to be a poor college student, and think that tipping isn’t required. Some of the best justifications include: it’s not my money/pizza, I didn’t know I could include it into the check, I spent all my money on beer. Of course, there are some interesting tips (other than don’t eat yellow snow, which people actually say to me sometimes). Sometimes beer and even marijuana are offered for tips, but the most interesting tip offers are a bit more, well... intimate. Occasionally women will come to their front door in nightgowns. Once I saw a woman in a slip, and a few times women wearing sexy, risque, silk teddies have answered the door (and the woman with the Texas accent was pretty cute). gflsifhj Once, when delivering pizzas to a fraternity house, the person who ordered the pizza passed out. Several women offered to buy it for less than the dollar value, so I was prepared to sell it to the highest bidder. One woman had enough to pay full price; another young woman didn’t have that much and consequently offered to sleep with me if I gave her the pizza instead. It’s frightening sometimes what people will say to get food when they have no other recourse. Once, after closing the shop, a group of college women called, and we told them we couldn’t deliver pizzas anymore. The woman on the phone then said that there was a group of women of all sorts of ethnic groups there, and if someone would deliver them a pizza, he could sleep with any one of them. After jokingly asking the staff if anyone would take them up on their offer, we replied that our staff had already received all the sex they wanted that evening. Delivering pizzas is not like standing behind a counter and asking May I take your order?, or even like waiting tables. A driver has to deal with car troubles, police/traffic run-ins, the elements, people who don’t show up or people with little respect for our time and efforts. And seldom does a driver get a decent healthcare plan, even though people support their families by driving. The point is, sometimes there are some good stories to tell about the delivery business, but most of the time it’s hard work coupled with a few hazards. And when the pizza gets to the door, you still sometimes see a smile.
sad ending: Why did I even write this damn article? what was the damn point? what’s the point of ANYTHING? it’s a minimum wage job, with no dental or health care plan, and I think i’m going to slit my wrists now, i have no future, everything sucks. maybe i’ll just drive into a brick wall and end it all. take out a few police cars and non-tipping pedestrians with me. here’s your fucking pizza, world. the end. happy ending: The pizza delivery business is great, fun, easy, and oh so fulfilling. With the extra tip money, I’ve paid for mother’s surgery, and still saved enough for my second porsche and the small yacht. And I even met the girl of my dreams on a pizza run (she likes all the same toppings I do - she’s swell). The manager of my store is going to be my best man. Thank you, world. the scooby-doo ending: Who was that guy that hit me in the car and stole my pizza? Hey! there goes Mr. Grumplefingers, from the amusement park - why is he here? quick! grab him! take off his mask! And I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you meddling delivery kids!
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