The Pizza Guy

Middle son, J, offered to pick up Youngest Son from college so that he could collect some supplies like laundry detergent and a new ink cartridge for his printer that I was getting at Wal-Mart after work. And then Youngest Son was going to visit a former girlfriend (an ex-dil) who just had surgery on Saturday. This kind of left us in limbo about dinner. We’ve been used to cooking just for the two of us these past few months and that doesn’t take much planning. There are usually leftovers or whatever. This week has been a little tougher because Middle son J is home for Spring Break and he eats like a horse. So there are no leftovers. Which is one reason I ordered Chinese last night. And which is why I told Big Daddy to just order Pizza Hut tonight. We weren’t sure who would or would not be around to eat.

Delivery was supposed to arrive no later than 7:00. Well, at 7:05, at the first commercial break of Jeopardy, I decided enough was enough. We’ve had a few problems with this Pizza Hut lately and I was worried they forgot about our order. And I was starting to get antsy and grouchy like I do when I’m hungry. I had the cell phone in hand, at the door, when I spotted a little orange car turn down our street. I figured it must be the pizza guy because I had never seen this car before, but it passed by the house. I watched it turn around in Mrs. S’s driveway down the street and head on back up. Thank God!

I was thinking about tipping him a dollar less than I planned when the big young man got out of his car all pleasant asking how I was doing. I think he knew I was ticked. He was tall and husky with longish hair but a pleasant face. He asked me if my son was Chris. (That’s my Soldier Son in Iraq). He said he went to high school with him. Middle school, too. He said last time he saw Chris his hair was way past his shoulders. I told him that wasn’t the case now. I told him Chris was in Iraq.

“Wow, that’s some crazy stuff,” he said, shaking his head. I asked him his name. I recognized the name but had never met him before. “Tell Chris I said hi,” he said. So I e-mailed Soldier Son to tell him this guy asked about him. I was glad I gave the guy the entire tip.

When the two younger brothers heard who the pizza guy was, they said he used to ride their bus. They said he had to go home early from school once because…hmmm…some of Chris’s friends were joking around and slipped him some Ex-Lax and the Ex-Lax took effect. Were you in on this, Chris? I hope not, but if so, I guess there’s no hard feelings.

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1 Response to “The Pizza Guy”


  1. 1 Chris March 14, 2008 at 5:18 am

    You should know by now I’m not keen on pranks involving the doctoring of food =P


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