I know you are, but what am I?

Pizza delivery brings a whole new level to the childhood game "I know you are, but what am I?" although in our case, I call it "I know you know you live there but how am I supposed to know you live there?"

For example, in Australia (I'm not sure about other countries) and especially in my delivery area there are a lot of apartment buildings. Addresses run as apartment number first and building number second. For example, 19/57-59 means until 19 in the building that spans blocks 57 and 59 of the particular street. Not hard, right?

Well, you have your normal reversals. So, 2/16 becomes 16/2 and you end up bothering some poor old lady at 2am. You've got your wrong apartments- 14/2 becomes 15/2 and you spend 10 minutes banging on the wrong door before the customer comes out to find what all the noise is. You've got people that live at 2A that tell you 2 (see above result) and then there's the people that live at 2 hill road but tell you 2 hall road and you end up in the wrong suburb. Sometimes they're not even home when you arrive! They order on the way home but get stuck in traffic. Or they are home but asleep in the bathtub.

Better yet are the addresses that are incorrect with an incorrect phone number also. This means not only do you not know where they live but you can't even call them to confirm it. Fortunately if it's a regular you can usually figure out the correct address and deliver it anyway, but sometimes it's just not possible.

Worse still are the games of "I know you know you live there, but how am I supposed to know you live there?" that are played late at night on a dark street full of houses and NOT ONE SINGLE ONE HAS A HOUSE NUMBER! Please, make sure that your house has a clearly visible number somewhere on the letterbox or fence of possible. This means don't put white numbers on a white mail box, or bronze numbers on a brown fence. It just makes it that much harder to find you and get your pizzas to you. We know you're hungry and we're doing our best.

What makes it all worthwhile? Seeing the happy little smiling faces and hearing the little voices yell "MUMMY! PIZZA'S HERE!!!" and knowing it's a job well done.

That Pizza Delivery Girl

People often ask me what my job is like.

My job is like every other pizza delivery job. It's hot, it's often painful, it's hard and dirty work. Quite often when it rains, you get soaked and then get a cold. I've gained a lot of upper body strength, and lost a lot of weight since starting. Clothes get ruined, fingers get burned and cut. We get robbed, and have things thrown at us; we get yelled at and complained to. Dogs chew our shoes and jump all over us, children try and rip the pizzas out of our hands. It's a crazy job. And I love it.

The thing that makes me different is that I'm a girl. You don't often see a girl doing this job. It's hard and dangerous. I work hard to prove that I belong there and as far as I can tell, I'm doing just as well as the guys.

Most of my co-workers and customers are wonderful people. One of the things I've learned about my job is that nothing suprises me any more. From people answering the door naked, to being attacked by animals, to being yelled at for being late - nothing phases me. I can stand and take anything you throw at me without showing any emotion. I can calm and placate any person or animal. I show no reaction to physical pain. I no longer cry.

The plan for this blog is to post some of my hilarious, painful and cringe-worthy stories from my job in the hope that it will open people's eyes to the things we go through on a daily basis. I don't want sympathy - I want you to laugh with me, cry with me, and share a small part of what makes me happiest - my job. I don't want anything more than to share my story with you. I hope this blog can bring a little bit of sunshine and laughter into your lives. If it does that, well, I've achieved my goal.

Simmi