Work … schmork …

I don’t work a glamerous job, and I’m pretty sure I just mispelled that word.

I’m the guy who shows up at your office with your lunch, or at your front porch with your kid’s pizza. I work at this job about sixty hours a week, and to tell you the truth, I have a GREAT time doing it! I get to drive around all day and night, listen to music, and bring food to a diverse group of (mostly) great customers.

Sure the job has its downsides. There’s only so many times you can be run off the road by a dumptruck before you just want to beat the absolute living crap out of someone. And in the middle of a hot-July, during a busy afternoon in a shop with two 600 degree ovens and no air-conditioning, the urge to strangle the bitch who has commented “My, it is hot in here” is almost impossible to overcome. And when you’ve driven five miles to bring someone a hot pizza, getting a handful of pennies for a tip results in smacking your head solidly across the steering wheel in frustration.

I work at two shops, my favorite is a small independently owned place in Hunt Valley. The working atmosphere, I feel, is better than that I experienced when working at Papa John’s or Domino’s. I spent most of the night tonight making fun of Gary, the owner. On Saturday, he was at a barbeque, had a bit too much to drink, and spent the night in a poison ivy bush. So today, his first day back, he was working in slacks and a long-sleeved shirt, slapping out pizzas in a shop with no air conditioning. Well, he deserved a friendly ribbing. My point being, at a corporate store, that never would’ve been tolerated – I would’ve been beaten senseless and hauled into the dumpster. Asses.

The biggest benefit of the indy shop is that my tip average is quite a bit higher than what it was when I drove for the Papa John’s down the street. The second benefit is – NO UNIFORMS! Hoorah! I don’t have to look like I’m a tool …

… even though I suppose I am a tool. A tool of The Man. The poison-ivy covered Man. Hah. The Man is a moron. See? I make fun of him on the internet.

Oh, so much for my raise … :(

I apologize. I think I had a point to make in this post and then I went and got all side-tracked and didn’t make it. Um. Dogs suck.