The stories are slowing now that I've left my pizza delivery job, but I still have some corker customers that I just have to write about.
About 6 weeks after I started my delivery driver job, I was doing my first close (covering another driver during a family emergency). It was late on a Thursday night and we get an order for 10 pizzas. Not unheard of, but again, not exactly the norm - and the delivery address was for a local hotel/motel. Okay, verify the order, and send it out with the very new, very short, very chubby female delivery driver. I rock up and knock on the door of the room. No response. What the hell? Then the next room's door opens and a good-looking young bloke in his mid-20s wearing nothing but a towel sticks his head out and advises me they're in that room. No problems. As I'm walking under the light, he suddenly realises something is amiss - although my face is shaded by a cap, I have boobs - and boys don't have boobs. The look on his face went from 'yay food' to 'oh crap' in about one nanosecond. By this point I've reached the door, and see that there are 10 young, good-looking, scantily clad footy players on a boy's night out chilling out on the beds and floor watching TV.
It was one of those moments. The ones where nothing is as it seems, an alternate reality. They're staring at me, I'm staring at them, and nobody can quite believe what they are seeing. I certainly was NOT expecting ten practically naked guys. Suddenly it clicked for everyone that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Cue the frantic yells of "Oh shit, that's a girl!" and "Dave, put some farking clothes on!", ten fully-grown men frantically trying to find pants to put on, and me backing away from the door as fast as I can while trying not to drop my pizzas and laughing so hard I can barely see straight.
After a few seconds one of them has found some jeans (I think they may have belonged to one of his friends, as they were hanging off him) and comes outside to pay me. Unfortunately, the only place to put the pizzas down for them was a chair just inside the door of the motel room. Cue more frantic scrambling as they realise that I haven't left, and half of them still need clothes. I think they ended up pushing three guys into the bathroom or behind the wardrobe because they couldn't find anything to put on.
By this point I'm trying not to laugh so hard I have stitches, and my face has gone bright red. I put the pizzas on the chair as fast as I can without smashing them up or looking at anyone. Obviously nervous, one of them tries to break the tension and makes a comment I'll never forget.
"Do you see anything you like? We've got some pretty good specimens."
I finally couldn't take any more. I laughed so hard I cried. And they gave me a $12 tip for my troubles.