The predictions for today were “slow due to the Preakness.”
I was hoping it would be slow. It wasn’t.
Between my sore throat and my lack of sleep last night, I feel horrible. My jaw aches, my feet are throbbing, my right wrist feels tight, all the joints in my fingers are cracking, and, judging from my rear-view mirror, I look like I got trambled by a twelve-hoofed wolly mammoth and his buddy, King Kong. My face is flushed, dark bags under my eyes are clearly visible, and I’ve got fresh red marks on my hand from a dog who got a bit too friendly (no skin breaking involved, thankfully). My khaki-cargo shorts are from last summer, and hanging looser from me tonight than this morning, even with the belt tightened to the max. Couple that with the blue Pac-Man shirt, stained with sweat and accessorized with a pen hanging from the collar, and I look as if I bought this wardrobe on clearance day at Target. If it were winter, I’m sure I’d have frozen snot running down my face to complete my “look”.
It’s fair to say that if I had known how completely exhausted and worn I’d be at the end of the day, that I would’ve called out from both places and spent the day sipping TheraFlu and relaxing in bed. On the other hand, if I could see into the future to see how I’d be at the end of the day, I’d probably also notice how much money I made, and that would motivate me to go in anyway. It’s not quite a Grandfather Paradox — it’s the PizzaGuy Paradox (I guess).
I worked twelve hours today — opening at the Franchise, then closing at the Indy. I took an incredible thirty-eight runs, made $180 in tips and mileage, pranked a county cop, and am totally and utterly beat and ready to collapse in bed (the floor is also looking particularly attractive at the moment).
I must’ve gone through two bags of throat-drops, to no avail. Once at work, I started drinking sprite, which I’ve found usually has a pleasing effect on a sore throat. The two — sprite & drops — together helped, and now I’ve got a hot glass of TheraFlu Cold & Sore Throat to my left.
There was so much today that could’ve been blog posts. Real quick, to serve as a study guide if I want to expand ‘em later:
1. The hotty county cop I pranked.
2. The bird that Robin couldn’t get to leave the Indy.
3. Robin sweeping for me while I was out on runs (you rock, dude).
4. The dickheads who drove into oncoming traffic to get around someone moving slower than them.
5. This being the busiest Saturday day-shift (delivery-wise) the franchise has ever seen.
6. How nice traffic is in Hunt Valley on a Saturday evening.
7. Why does a fucking horse need a police escort?
8. The hot hippy chick who needed directions to a yard sale, then realized it was right around the corner from her house. Did I mention she was hot?
9. Y’know, I think I did get these clothes at Target.
I think there’s more, but my memory already went to sleep.
(Fuck! I forgot to fill up my tank!)