Delivery story 135 Jay writes: I worked for a privately owned store for about four years. Though I have moved on to bigger and better things, there were events that happened during those four years of driving that I will never forget. Big tip. One Friday night I was delivering to one of the shady parts of town. Having lived there for part of my life going back, I wasn't really scared. I was used to the sights, smells, and sounds. When I got to the house, a gentleman answered the door stoned off his ass and drunk as can be. The order was about $25 or so for a couple of pizzas, some hot wings, and a 2-liter of coke. When he saw the food he said to hold on, ran inside, yelled something about pizzas, and a moment later he returned with a ziplock bag full of coins. I thought to myself, "Great. Now I'm going to have to stand here and watch him count everything out." The guy looked at the bag, looked at me, then looked at the bag again realizing he can't, or doesn't want to count it out, and says, "Here, just take it and we'll be cool." I was thinking there wasn't enough in the bag. Then it hit me. It was a bag of quarters. With some quick math in my head, I realized there was way more than $25 in there. So I took the bag, gave him the food, and he said, "Sorry for the coins but there should be enough and the rest is a tip." I got back to the store, told the manager who laughed at me for walking in with a bag of coins, and we began to count it out. It was over $80 in quarters. I left that night with well over $100 in tips. Including my wages and commission, I made more in one five-hour night than what my store manager did on a nine-hour shift. I was delivering to a country home one afternoon literally on the edge of our delivery area and about a 15-minute drive just to get there. The kitchen was busy, so the pizza got there in about 40 to 50 minutes or so, still hot, just a little later than usual. I came up to the house and two fairly large guys in jungle camo were standing there waiting for me. One guy told me that he had been waiting and that I was late and he was hungry. He didn't mention he was drunk, by the way. The other guy told me he wanted to kill me on the spot and eat me because he was so hungry. Also drunk, mind you. Thinking ah sh*t to myself, mainly because I figured this guy looked crazy enough to do it, I replied in a somewhat nervous voice while reaching for my pepper spray, "I wouldn't. I'm a little tough. You would have to slow roast me in a three-foot pit for about eight hours to get me tender enough to be worth it. Plus all the time to marinate. Just not worth it." To this, the two guys laughed their a$$e$ off and told me it was worth the wait to hear that. They shook my hand, tipped me $5, said they were sorry if they scared me and to have a great day. From that day on, they requested me as a driver, always asked how my day was going, tipped damn well and even invited me to their cabin to do some hunting, tracking, or fishing. return to top