I thought I'd hate my summer job of delivering pizzas. It was just a summer job, something to do before starting my first year of college. Drive around, verify credit cards since no one ever uses cash any more. Hope to get a tip every now and then.
My manager Robin was great, though. She had been at this job for nine years, ever since getting her driver's license.
She told me, and the three other new drivers, yes, our job sucked. Yes, some customers are assholes. And yes, your car will smell like pizzas for months after you quit. But our customers are people. And people have feelings. And for some of our customers? This pizza is a luxury. Don't make them sorry they spent their hard-earned money on us; there's a hundred other places trying get that same dollar out of their pocket.
I took those words to heart. I remember our mom getting us a pizza from the place down the street on the third of every month, when our dads would send her our child support checks. It took us six kids less than five minutes scarf down that extra- large pepperoni, but those were some of the best five minutes, chomping our way through that big old pizza.
So, I'd drive up, put a smile on my face and deliver five minutes of happy fun pizza to my customers. I'd ring the doorbell or knock on their door and announce that their pizza was there. This habit helped get us some more orders. A neighbor would hear me make my announcement and would ask what pizza place I was from. I'd tell them and tell them the phone number to call for their own pizza.
So, not even twenty one days into my summer job, Robin gave me a twenty cent bump up in pay. That don't sound like much, but hey, every little bit helps, especially since my dad ain't sending in my child support checks no more because I'm eighteen. Bradley, my big brother is a cop in Decatur and should be helping out a bit, but we haven't seen him since he moved out. We don't even see Bradley on Christmas or Thanksgiving. So, really, my money does help out a bit.
"Hey Trey," Robin called out right at closing time one night. "Got one more for you."
She kind of smirked when she gave me the vegan pizza and the address. I don't have shit against vegans; I just don't get it. They won't even use lip balm because it has bees wax in it. What good is a pizza without meat, or even cheese on it?
The guy that answered the door smiled real big and said I was a cute one. I thanked him, got his signature for the credit card and was ready to go; he was my last delivery for the night.
"Hey, want um, want an extra ten bucks?" he asked.
"Yeah," I agreed.
He held out a ten dollar bill and asked me to come in. I stepped into his tiny apartment and looked around.
The room was maybe about ten feet by ten feet and the couch was way too big for the room. Don't get me wrong. It was a very nice couch, but it was huge and the room was too small.
In order to earn my ten dollar tip, Mr. Roy wanted me to spunk all over his pizza. That was it. He put the pizza box on the coffee table, opened it and I pulled out my dick and spanked my monkey, thinking about doing my manager, Robin. She had kind of a big ass and I'd really like to do her up that big, bouncy ass of hers.
"Oh, yes," Mr. Roy giggled as I creamed his vegan pizza.
So the next time Mr. Roy ordered a vegan pizza, Robin and I smirked at each other. That ten bucks was easy money and it put gas in my mom's car. She still needed to get my two baby brothers and my baby sister and my older sister to school. My older sister Denise has special needs, so even though she's twenty two years old, she still goes to school.
And, now that I'm working at the pizza place? I'm the one brings home a giant pizza for us. First time I did it, my mom got all bent out of shape about it.
But when I told her it was my way of paying her back for all the pizzas she'd bought us over the years, and it made me feel good seeing how happy Denise and my three bratty younger brothers and sister got when I came in, carrying that box and it was for them and for her. It made my Mom cry. I guess she never realized how big that pizza was for us kids. It was a big deal and it still is a big deal.
Mr. Roy is good for a pizza delivery every two or three weeks. And he's not the only gay guy on the list. Mr. Blake is also gay, and likes answering his door totally naked. Travis, one of the other drivers won't even go to Mr. Blake's trailer because Mr. Blake keeps asking Travis real embarrassing questions when he's standing there, dick hanging down over his sad little balls.
Mr. Blake's not the only one that answers the door naked. In these apartments right down the street from us? In Apartment 112, Mrs. Sylvia answers the door, giant titties flopping around, big old gray bush right there in your face. The fact that she's at least fifty, maybe even sixty years old is bad enough, all them stretch marks and wrinkles and shit. But Mrs. Sylvia's also about three hundred pounds, pretty much a beach ball with arms.
And because I just smile and agree, it is a pretty day, yeah, we been getting some really hot days, it's not just how hot it is, but how damned humid it gets here in Atlanta and just keep smiling, Mrs. Sylvia asks for me whenever she calls in for a pizza.
Same apartments, 203, there's a really pretty red head and her blonde girlfriend. Lori, the red head answers the door naked while Tammy stands there smirking. They're both gay, so I know I'll never get to fuck either one of them, but Lori's got really cute little titties, kind of like two small pears hanging there and her bush is as red as the curly hair on her head.
Lori told me, whenever she loses a bet, she has to answer the door naked. She also told me, she's always glad when it's me and not Travis or Latrell; they make her really uncomfortable.
"Uh, Tammy don't ever lose?" I asked as Lori signed the charge slip.
"Uh huh, but when she does? I get Chinese," Lori told me.
Breaks my heart. I'd really love to see Tammy answer the door just once. But, at least Lori's cute.
The fourth of the month, Robin answered the order line and squealed. The dining area of our pizza place is closed and I'm just waiting until 10:00 to roll around so I can get out of there.
"Okay, Trey, one more, and then you're out of here," Robin said real happy. "That was Miss Tabitha; she's been our customer for as long as I can remember."
The single wide trailer has a long wooden ramp off to the side of the steps, so I know Miss Tabitha or someone lives there is in a wheelchair. Because of Denise, I've kind of learned to pick up on those kinds of things.
I knocked on the door and announce I'm there to deliver a pizza for Miss Tabitha. A minute later, the door opens, and I'm looking into the saddest brown eyes I've ever seen in my life. The pizza in my hand weighs more than the tiny body in the wheelchair.
"Oh boy!" Miss Tabitha smiled.
