It is a really busy night at the restaurant where I work. I usually buss tables, but delivery is going so crazy that I have to step in and take a few. We had gotten an order for 7 pizzas, and it was already late. The pizza guys bust out the pizzas in record time and I grab them and hop into the oldest delivery truck we have, appropriately named “Frankenstein”. I put the pizzas in the hot box in the back and hit the road. The place is a good 10 minutes away and I have no choice but to take the freeway. I speed the whole way and pull up to the place ahead of schedule. I get out and walk to the back of the truck to get the pizzas. My heart sinks as I gaze into the empty hot box. Where the hell are the pizzas? There is only one place, the freeway. Damn it! I call my work and tell them that they are going to have to remake all 7 pizzas. Then, to make matters worse, I find out that I have to pick up one of the owners of the restaurant because her car wont start, take her home, then come get the pizzas and deliver them again. What a great night. Next time I will just stick to bussing.
- Bobby
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