…it’s a beggin’ ass pizza man.
I understand that delivering pizzas isn’t the greatest job, especially now that gas is $4 a gallon. Honestly, I don’t know how you can turn a profit if you’re not driving a hybrid? And, if you can afford a hybrid, why are you delivering pizzas?
Anyway, there’s this one pizza chain I patronize. I like their pizza. I order it.
Only thing is that they hit you with a delivery charge. If that’s what the man wants to do, he can do that. So, I pay the delivery charge.
The man that loses in this battle is the pizza man. See, when I see “delivery charge,” I think “tip.” After all, that’s what an extra buck and change on a pizza is, right? Well, Papa takes the tip as tax. There goes my tip money. I don’t have any left for the pizza man. The pizza ain’t that good to be putting all that money on it.
But invariably, this chain has some beggin’ ass pizza man come to my door. They don’t seem to understand that a tip is a courtesy. It is not owed to you. Strippers sometimes leave the stage with nary single. You think somebody owes you money because you brought them some food? You were out bringing the next man his food! I was just on the way.
And today, they sent the beggin’ ass pizza man. I told him why I couldn’t tip, because of the delivery charge. He then told me that he and his brethren don’t see anything from the delivery charge.
Hey there — instead of complaining to me about this, shouldn’t you be taking this up with your manager? That’s who’s taking your money. Why are you coming to me about it? I ain’t got it. Do y’all need to start a union or something?
Just know this — gas is kicking my ass, too. Unfortunately, that’s why I can’t put something on your tank. That’s not on me, playboy. That’s on your job.
In other words — take that beggin’ somewhere else.
July 5, 2008
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