Deliver to the Penthouse, Please

It’s a typical Wednesday afternoon on a rainy Valley day. The end of the month and the end of another work day. I have a short drive home but it feels like a long commute this time. I pull into the driveway and stagger up the steps – shit, I forgot about dinner. It’s been a long enough day and I could probably go without a meal. Of course, tomorrow’s Thursday and the midweek hurdle’s only just been jumped. So I live on the edge and order pizza. There’s lunch too.

Since I couldn’t go back out into the world, I opted for delivery. From a pizza joint that is a block away but the four dollar fee was an easy compromise not to have to leave the house. It took well over the allotted time for the pizza to be delivered but you can’t be too picky. When the buzzer finally rang I was pretty hungry. Maybe not in the best mood to begin with but nonetheless I just wanted my pizza.

She gets to my fourth floor apartment unit and with a displeased expression tells me it’ll be twice what I’m expecting. I scoff politely and tell her what I think it should be. This displeases her even more so and asks me to meet her downstairs. I’m in my pajamas. I slip my shoes on and head down to meet her while she’s phoning in the problem. I’ll spare you the details but apparently someone over there doesn’t know what they’re doing. Her sentiments, not mine. It continues like this for what seems like a ridiculous amount of time and I’m starting to get a little upset. Almost willing to pay double, almost. Then she starts arguing with the person on the phone about what my toppings were.

It’s dragging on and honestly I feel a little bad. The delivery person is giving the other person a hard time and then says “Y’know that broad on [street]”. Yeah, yeah I order a lot of take out. The lady looks at me and half smiles without kindness. So I shrug and say “Sorry, I have a thing about leaving my house. Otherwise I’d go down the street to get my pizza”. Her whole face softens which surprised me. She says “Oh. Is this outside of your comfort zone?” Referring to me standing halfway out the lobby door. With a straight face I said, “yes.” I mean, it wasn’t a huge stretch. Well, gosh this changed everything. She begins to apologize and reassures me that we can go back inside. Everything will be OK she nods as she pushes me back into the lobby.

I have a normal thing about leaving my house in which at the end of a long day – I don’t want to go any where; but the pizza lady didn’t need to know the details of my particular personality disorder.

We make our way upstairs all the while she’s reassuring me and telling the pizza order taking person what the price will be. She’s really nice about it in a full of pity kind of way. We get back and the bill is more reasonable. She lets me know I can still get delivery any time. Which is nice to know but I think I’ll be picking my food up for a while.

Stay wild & stay home.


Photo Credit: This is Pretty Wild


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