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It’s coming up on a year now since I got my current job as a pizza delivery girl, and I thought this would be a good time to delve into the little ever-expanding “WTFPIZZA” note I keep on my cell that helps me remember some of my more, uh - interesting deliveries.
So without further ado and in no particular order, here’s some pizza customers who left a lasting impression on me thus far:
- A bearded man who answered the door and periodically spat blood into a crusted Harley-Davidson coffee mug while counting out his cash.
- A woman who slipped me a business card (in lieu of tip) for a laser tattoo removal clinic, explaining “In case you want to bring your mutilated skin back to how God intended it to be.”
- At least three Batmans so far, but only one who did the voice.
- An elderly Spanish woman who meekly presented me with a (rather classy) pearl-handled .32 snub nosed revolver and asked if I knew how to load it (I do) and also, if I could load it for her (I didn’t).
- A group of EMT’s hanging out in the back of an ambulance at a recently extinguished (but still smouldering) house fire.
- A man with a thick Alabama accent who admonished me for standing in front of his mailbox while I waited for him to answer the door. He then explained how this was a federal offense because I was “obstructing the mail system” and demanded my social security number so he could “report me to the proper authorities”.
- A group of young teenage girls (like 14-16) who begged me to buy a case of Bud Light (ew why) and bring it back to them.
- A hotel room full of badass middle-aged women all dressed as Professor McGonagall from the Harry Potter films, who were also completely wasted on Jello shots. They kept encouraging me to stay and party with them.
- A 20-something dude who answered the door with an unsheathed katana dangling through a belt loop on his jeans.
- Multiple instances of people asking if I would sell them pot. (bitch get your own dealer sheesh)
- A guy who slipped a twenty directly into my shirt because I apparently was the “spitting image” of his deceased daughter.
- A woman who admonished me for driving a Mazda, and wrote “get a real car” in the tip portion of my credit receipt.
- A very drunk dude who gave me his iPhone and had me take a bunch of Myspace-esque pictures of the both of us. He did the duck lips thing in every shot.
- Multiple prank deliveries (joke’s on you motherfucker, I get paid for the gas AND I eat the pizzas you ordered)
- An elderly man who wrote “FUCK OFF” as his signature on a credit receipt.
- A thirty-something guy who begged to get his order for free because he “works so hard”. He visibly teared up and sniffled when I told him I couldn’t do anything.
- A dudebro wearing a bath robe and socks + sandals (indoors) who straight up wordlessly yanked the pizzas out of my hands without paying and shut the door. Multiple knockings were of no avail.
- A woman who angrily demanded to see my ID because she refused to believe my claims that I’m female. She proceeded to snatch my driver’s license out of my hand, run back into her house and show it to her children while pointing back at me.
- A kid no older than 14 who desperately tried to convince me to play WoW on the free custom server he was playing on. (But it has double XP!)
- A guy who spent the entire time I was there digging a (impressively large) booger out of his nose. He proceeded to smear it on, thankfully, HIS copy of the receipt.
- An on-duty cop who flagged me down by intercepting me on the road before I got to the police station and pulling me over to get his pizza.
- A drill instructor looking-guy who filled out his entire credit card receipt, specifically wrote “0.00” in the tip portion, then proceeded to write out a check for seventy-eight cents and handed it to me. It said “pizza tip” in the “For” section.
- A furious lady who yelled at me for a solid five minutes (I kept track) all about how long it took for her delivery to get to her. She then tipped me an extra ten bucks on a six dollar order. I dunno.
- An incredibly stoned teenager trying and failing to look sober. When I complimented his Adventure Time wallet (which was super cute) and asked where he got it, he immediately looked terrified, sat down on the floor and muttered “I… I don’t know….”
- Obligatory naked man with unimpressive penis
- A chick at a house party who answered the door and immediately turned to vomit into her mailbox.
- A surly Korean mom with an amazing shoulder tattoo of a baby giving birth to a full-grown woman.
- A man who lived in one of those mini-mansions inside a gated community, who sported a seemingly massive collection of what appeared to be solid glass spheres of varying size and color. I only got a quick glance in his house but there had to be hundreds of them in display racks, tables, shelves - everywhere.
- A group of 20-something guys who challenged me to sing the original Pokemon theme song, which I did. And perfectly, I may add.
- A completely iced-out musclebound gangster kid who was blaring Regina Spektor so loud and with so much bass I actually couldn’t hear anything he was saying.
- An elderly guy who deadpan asked me if I knew anyone who could score him hollowpoint bullets.
- An adorable older lesbian couple who were mortified that they didn’t have any extra money for a tip, so they gave me a big sack of pistachios instead. It took me three weeks to finish the bag.
Would you like to spend a month just doing Homestuck fanart? yes.
Well lookie here, there is a 31 day challenge JUST FOR YOU! an alternate version of the other 30-day challenge floating around somewhere on the internet.
1) Fave Kid – pre-scratch
2) Fave Kid– post-scratch
3) Fave Troll
5) Fave Page
6) Fave Flash
7) Fave Pesterlog
8) Fave Song
9) Fave Lusus
10) Fave Guardian
11) Fave Ancestor
12) Fave Exile
13) Fave alchemized item
14) Fave Planet
15) Derse or Prospit?
16) Fave Interactive Flash
17) Saddest Death
18) Fave Midnight Crew member
19) Shameless self-insert (draw us yo godtier self)
21) Humanized Trolls
22) Trollilized Humans
27) Fave Kid + Fave Troll = a ship
28) Fantroll (can be for rillies or for fakeys)
29) Homestuck AU (can be fanart of someone else’s or something you made up!)
30) Pick a Cherub!
31) A Message to Andrew Hussie
These are meant to be open-ended, but if you gotta have clarification on some of the prompts, DROP ME AN ASK maybe I can help!
I’m gonna start tomorrow, July 1st, come join me and my buds and lets add even more HS fanart to the internet than we even thought possible
When you are hurting, there will always be people who find a way to make it about themselves. If you break your wrist, they’ll complain about a sprained ankle. If you are sad, they’re sadder. If you’re asking for help, they’ll demand more attention.
Here is a fact: I was in a hospital and sobbing into my palms when a woman approached me and asked why I was making so much noise and I managed to stutter that my best friend shot himself in the head and now he was 100% certified dead and she made this little grunt and had the nerve to tell me, “Well now you made me sad.”
When you get angry, there are going to be people who ask you to shut up and sit down, and they’re not going to do it nicely. Theirs are the faces that turn bright red before you have a chance to finish your sentence. They won’t ask you to explain yourself. They’ll be mad that you’re mad and that will be their whole reason alone.
Here is a fact: I was in an alleyway a few weeks ago, stroking my friend’s back as she vomited fourteen tequila shots. “I hate men,” she wheezed as her sides heaved, “I hate all of them.”
I braided her hair so it wouldn’t get caught in the mess. I didn’t correct her and reply that she does in fact love her father and her little brother too, that there are strangers she has yet to meet that will be better for her than any of her shitty ex-boyfriends, that half of our group of friends identifies as male - I could hear each of her bruises in those words and I didn’t ask her to soften the blow when she was trying to buff them out of her skin. She doesn’t hate all men. She never did.
She had the misfortune to be overheard by a drunk guy in an ill-fitting suit, a boy trying to look like a man and leering down my dress as he stormed towards us. “Fuck you, lady,” he said, “Fuck you. Not all men are evil, you know.”
“Thanks,” I told him dryly, pulling on her hand, trying to get her inside again, “See you.”
He followed us. Wouldn’t stop shouting. How dare she get mad. How dare she was hurting. “It’s hard for me too!” he yowled after us. “With fuckers like you, how’s a guy supposed to live?”
Here’s a fact: my father is Cuban and my genes repeat his. Once one of my teachers looked at my heritage and said, “Your skin doesn’t look dirty enough to be a Mexican.”
When my cheeks grew pink and my tongue dried up, someone else in the classroom stood up. “You can’t say that,” he said, “That’s fucking racist. We could report you for that.”
Our teacher turned vicious. “You wanna fail this class? Go ahead. Report me. I was joking. It’s my word against yours. I hate kids like you. You think you’ve got all the power - you don’t. I do.”
Later that kid and I became close friends and we skipped class to do anything else and the two of us were lying on our backs staring up at the sky and as we talked about that moment, he sighed, “I hate white people.” His girlfriend is white and so is his mom. I reached out until my fingers were resting in the warmth of his palm.
He spoke up each time our teacher said something shitty. He failed the class. I stayed silent. I got the A but I wish that I didn’t.
Here is a fact: I think gender is a social construct and people that want to tell others what defines it just haven’t done their homework. I personally happen to have the luck of the draw and am the same gender as my sex, which basically just means society leaves me alone about this one particular thing.
Until I met Alex, who said he hated cis people. My throat closed up. I’m not good at confrontation. I avoided him because I didn’t want to bother him.
One day I was going on a walk and I found him behind our school, bleeding out of the side of his mouth. The only thing I really know is how to patch people up. He winced when the antibacterial cream went across his new wounds. “I hate cis people,” he said weakly.
I looked at him and pushed his hair back from his head. “I understand why you do.”
Here is a fact: anger is a secondary emotion. Anger is how people stop themselves from hurting. Anger is how people stop themselves by empathizing.
It is easy for the drunken man to be mad at my friend. If he says “Hey, fuck you, lady,” he doesn’t have to worry about what’s so wrong about men.
It’s easy for my teacher to fail the kids who speak up. If we’re just smart-ass students, it’s not his fault we fuck up.
It’s easy for me to hate Alex for labeling me as dangerous when I’ve never hurt someone a day in my life. But I’m safe in my skin and his life is at risk just by going to the bathroom. I understand why he says things like that. I finally do.
There’s a difference between the spread of hatred and the frustration of people who are hurting. The thing is, when you are broken, there will always be someone who says “I’m worse, stop talking.” There will always be people who are mad you’re trying to steal the attention. There will always be people who get mad at the same time as you do - they hate being challenged. It changes the rules.
I say I hate all Mondays but my sister was born on one and she’s the greatest joy I have ever known. I say I hate brown but it’s really just the word and how it turns your mouth down - the colour is my hair and my eyes and my favorite sweater. I say I hate pineapple but I still try it again every Easter, just to see if it stings less this year. It’s okay to be sad when you hear someone generalize a group you’re in. But instead of assuming they’re evil and filled with hatred, maybe ask them why they think that way - who knows, you might just end up with a new and kind friend."
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