May 2006

"Phone Problems" or "Giving Paul Demko a Bad Name"

My Mom called the other day and left this message on my voice mail:
"I think this is you, but I'm not sure, because you just have that
damn music playing on your message".
It's true, I no longer identify myself on my outgoing message.
Why?
Because I received too many messages from angry, confused and/or
drunk/stoned Pizzalovers. You see, I often have to call my
customers. Sometimes their intercoms/doorbells are broken.
Sometimes they aren't actually at the agreed address.
Sometimes they're too fucked up to get to the door.
Sometimes they have already passed out.
Most of the time, I call them, they answer, then come to the door,
make the exchange and all is well. Other times, they say stuff
like, "I'm still on the freeway. I'll be there in ten minutes".
With these clowns I rarely stick around. I tell them to call
the shop when they arrive at home and we'll send out the pizza.
This kind of behavior is a major pain in my ass.

However, the worst part of all of this is the fact that they
have my number in their phone and often they can't remember
who it was that called. Sometimes I get phone at all hours
of the day and night asking why I called them. I can't even
tell you how many times I've been woken up by some dude asking
me why I called his cel. I'd roll out of bed at some ungodly
hour to answer my phone, only to have some jackass ask me
"Who is this? Why did you call me?". I would ask if they
ordered a pizza, they'd say "Yes" and I'd explain that I'm
the Pizzaman and I had to call them because they didn't
answer their door. At this point, they hang up. They never offer
an apology for waking me up, they never say anything, they just
hang up on me and I stumble back to bed. Nowadays, I usually
shut off my phone before going to bed and rarely answer the
phone if the caller ID shows a number I don't recognize.
Back when I identified myself on my outgoing message, I'd
received weird messages from Pizzalovers in various states
of intoxication saying shit like "Hey [my name] why the fuck
are you calling me? I don't know you. Don't call here again,
asshole" These messages were, more often than not, from
Pizzalovers who were too crocked to get to the door or pull
themselves away from the Xbox.
But now that my message contains only music, they rarely
leave messages.
They're now treated to a few seconds of Aerosmith's
"Train Kept A'Rollin'",Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" or the
Goodman Jewelers jingle.
However, some people never give up. I had one gal that
called me a dozen times and left a message every time that
said "Who is this? Do I know you? Call me back". After a
couple of days of this, I called her back and told her that
I was the Pizzaman and I called her because her bell was broken.
She simply said "Oh. Oh yeah..." then hung up.

There was one instance, however, that I was the jackass.
Well, kind of a jackass:
I took a single pie order to a fourplex, but nobody was
answering the doorbell. Finally, I called the Pizzalover
and told her I had arrived. She told me that she was at
a friend's house a block away and would be there shortly.
She was shitfaced drunk.
After about five minutes she stumbled down the sidewalk,
approached me and asked the price. I told her and she informed
me that she didn't know where her purse was. She went into the
house to look for it. She appeared two more times at the door
to update me on the search.
"I think it's in my bedroom, hold on", "I saw it in the kitchen
this morning, maybe it's there. Wait right here".
I waited.
Finally, she appeared at the door to tell me it was "definitely
in the car".
After rummaging through her car, she found her purse, paid for
the pizza and gave me a crummy tip.
Thanks a lot.
Thanks for wasting my time.
Time that could have been spent delivering to my good customers
that actually tip and don't spend a lot of time fucking around.
I left the drunken Pizzalovers house and headed back to the shop.
I had an hour or so to go before my shift ended and I was
planning to go bowling with some of my peeps from City Pages.
About this time, fellow CP scribe Paul Demko called from the
bowling alley to ask if I was going to show up. I informed him
that I was wrapping things up on the Streets and I'd call him
when I was on my way.
My duties at the shop took longer than I expected, but I finally
got done and headed to the bowling alley. On the way, my phone rang.
I recognized the number on my caller ID as the drunk girl who
couldn't find her purse.
I ignored it.
She called again... and again... and again.
Each time I let the call go to voice mail.
At this time I decided to call Demko back and inform him that
I was fast approaching bowling Valhalla.
On my phone, if you hit the "send" button twice, it calls the
last person who called you. I hit "send" twice and expected to
hear Demko's voice on the other end. But instead, some girl answered.
Now, you must understand how Paul Demko rolls. He is often hanging
with a bunch of fine-ass ladies, so it came as no surprise to me
when a chick answered the phone. I calmly asked to talk with Paul.
"Who?" the girl replied.
"Paul. Paul Demko" I said.
"Who the fuck is that?" she asked.
"Paul Demko, the guy who's phone you're answering" I said.
"Ahhh....Ummm..." she stammered.
I started to lose my patience.
"PAUL. PAUL DEMKO. PAUL. DEMKO. LET ME TALK TO DEMKO!" I yelled
into the phone.
"What? Who?" she asked.

Then it hit me.

I looked at the phone and realized that she was the drunk girl
and I had mistakenly called her number rather than Demko's.
I hung up.
Seconds later, she called back.
I didn't pick up.
She called back.
Again, I ignored it.
She called again.
And again.
After six calls, I shut my phone off.
She never left a message.

Upon arriving at the bowling alley, I told Demko the story of
yelling his name into the phone at some drunk chick.
Demko just shook his head and said "That's just great,.
Now some random girl is going to hate me. Usually, they have to
meet me first before deciding they hate me. Thanks, thanks a lot".

Then we proceeded to bowl.

Posted by The Pizza Man at May 19, 2006 4:01 AM

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