blahspaceblah.

So blahspaceblah., that’s the structure given to everything ever said isn’t it. A first word and space, a word and then punctuation. That is life. But trust me it's a jounrey.

60 minutes

So I used to get 40 minutes to make each pizza delivery, but when you get given 2 deliveries for one trip you get an hour and 20 minutes. The majority of deliveries took about 10 minutes, so on a double I would get about an hour of ‘me’ time before having to go back to the store. Now normally I would spend this time chilling out, reading a book, listening to music, running some personal errands, but on one particular occasion things didn’t exactly go to plan. This is how I found out that you shouldn’t stay outside the customers house after making a delivery.

So I am chilling in my car, music up, catching up on some Sherlock Holmes, reaching for a bad order pizza (this is a pizza where something went wrong, wrong toppings, didn’t get delivered or was made twice) for my dinner - I am a student so a free meal is a free meal. I have been there for about 30 minutes when, all of a sudden, out of nowhere a pizza box (from where I work), still with most of the pizza inside lands on my bonnet. I fucking shat myself. I jumped out of the car and looked around as I was in quite a nice part of Plymouth where the houses have drives to the houses so it couldn’t have been thrown from a window. Or could it?

While I am still stood there baffled and confused, a VERY angry woman is approaching me with great haste. What the fuck do i do? She DEFINITELY knows who I work for so I can’t drive off, besides, there is pizza all over my car. She marches right up to me, hands me £20 and this is exactly what she said “I have just caught my husband cheating on me with the maid, that £20 is for a lift to the train station…what happened to your car?” I was stunned in to silence. All I could say was “I was actually hoping you could help me with that one, I thought you may have something to do with it?” She told me that she had no idea, but promised me another £20 when I dropped her off at the station. Amazingly I somehow forgot the mystery of the flying pizza and we set off. 

Now, it is about this point that I should mention that I had taken off my hat, and put a jacket over my uniform shirt so that people would spot me as a pizza delivery boy. You may be wondering what this has to do with anything, but we’ll get there.

We have been driving for about 5 minutes when a BMW comes roaring around a corner. I can only describe the driving style as that of a maniac, a drunk one at that. My passenger politely informs me that that BMW driver would most definitely be her husband and most probably would be intoxicated. Great. This is exactly what I need. She tells me to lose him. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever been asked to “lose” someone in a car, but I ignored the cliché due to the fact that I would probably have my face kicked in if I didn’t. So I drove through a maze of rush hour traffic, using one way systems and a knowledge of the traffic lights to my advantage. I pulled in to a parking lot and he eventually sped by none the wiser. I almost wet myself with the relief from escaping. 

I finally drop my passenger off at the train station where the lady politely pays me and then something QUITE peculiar - “I really should start using your taxi service more often, I had expected to be waiting at least a few minutes for you to arrive, but nope - you were right there mere seconds after I called. Incredible.”

….what?

….Do I tell her that I am actually a pizza delivery boy with a jacket on? Well, I didn’t need to. It was in this moment of my confusion that the BMW screeched to a stop behind my car.

“What the hell are you doing with the pizza delivery boy?!?!?”

I jumped in my car and drove off. In hindsight I see this as my wisest decision. Ever. I arrived back at the store shortly after this transaction to find out that I had been 2 minutes over my set delivery time and got a warning about running late. I just said “Yeah, sure, whatever” and went to get my next delivery.

A hand grabs my shoulder.

“I didn’t know she didn’t know that I wasn’t a taxi driver!!!” I yell.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Its Liam, a friend of mine, another driver, “I just wanted to laugh at you for having pizza all over your car, hahaha…”

To this day nothing more came from the crazy couple.

And it was only a few weeks ago when I had delivered to a completely different part of town that I found out how I had ended up with pizza all over my car. It was Liam. He had driven past me and thrown a pizza out of his window at me. How did I find this out? He did it again. Bastard.

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