Summer '98.ÿMy freshman year at Penn was behind me, I was still 18, and I had the coolest job in the world. I drove for Domino's. The tunes blasted freely as I drove my kickass, Gold '88 Honda Accord: stick shift with flip-up headlights. I had two bumper stickers: one for the Smashing Pumpkins and another that said "Meat is Yummy."ÿI was controversial.
I was always hoping to get a call for extra anchovies (every pizza boy knows what THAT means) -- but something that happened one night in late June tops any wild slumber party to which I could have "delivered."
I had a double run. This was ideal; two houses near each other meant twice the tips in the same amount of time.ÿThe first house was on the side of a mountain, off a stretch of two-lane Route 46 (Sweet Home New Jersey). I pulled off the busy road and drove up to the house. Then I noticed that I was at the wrong address. I'd pulled into 377, but I was supposed to be at 375. A thin strip of grass separated the two driveways. It would be weird to leave my car idling in this person's driveway while making the delivery, but I didn't want to pull back out into rush hour traffic just to go five feet, either. So, I looked around, saw no one and drove quickly across the strip of grass. I DIDN'T HURT ANYTHING.ÿI made the delivery, pulled out of the driveway and started down the mountain to make my next drop.
I hadn't taken too much notice of the black Volvo pulling out from 377 as I headed away. But, at the next house, as I grabbed the patented Heatwave bag from the passenger seat, the black sedan came roaring up onto my customer's lawn. The guy in the car started cutting doughnuts on this poor fool's front yard, kicking up sod and dirt and grass! My jaw dropped. It was a big mess.ÿVolvos can weigh close to a ton, and this one clearly had rear-wheel drive. He finally stopped, rolled down his window, and shouted, "Hey! How do you like it when people drive on YOUR lawn?"
"Um, I don't live here," I said. "I'm just delivering a pizza."
I guess at that moment he noticed my highly inconspicuous red and blue Dominoes uniform, the bag in my hand, and perhaps even the plastic Dominoes light-up thing perched above my car's window. He let out a Homer Simpson-esque gasp and sped off.
It wasn't that hard to give the customer the pie for free, I just had difficulty keeping a straight face as she lamented her lawn's demise.
