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My Worst Nightmare: Ordering Pizza

When I was younger I had a profound fear of talking to strangers on the phone. I especially hated it when my parents made me order pizza for delivery. Looking back on it now, it seems silly to be afraid of such a simple task. But back then I would get incredibly nervous, and this is how I imagined the phone call would transpire:


In my living room, my family gathers around me as I dial the number of the pizza place.

(Ringing)

PIZZA GUY, who talks way too fast: Sorrento’s Pizza. What do you want?

ME: Yes…uhh…I’m calling because I’d like to make and place an order for deliverance to the house where I…umm…live.

PIZZA GUY: Hold on I’m putting you on speakerphone.

ME: Wh- Why did you do that?

PIZZA GUY: So everyone eating here can listen to this.

ME: Oh…umm…okay.

PIZZA GUY: So what do you want?

ME: I’d like to make an order for three pizzas. Well the order is not for pizzas, it’s for humans. So I guess it’s an order of pizzas for humans. Sorry for the confusion.

PIZZA GUY: Just tell me what you want.

ME: Okay, first of all, I’d like one large pizza with half cheese and half sausage.

PIZZA GUY: Large cheese pizza, half a sausage. Got it.

ME: No, I want one pizza, with half of it covered in sausage.

PIZZA GUY: Yeah.

ME: Yeah…

(Awkward silence)

PIZZA GUY: What else?

ME: I’d also like a large Hawaiian pizza.

PIZZA GUY: We don’t make those anymore.

ME (to my sister): They don’t have Hawaiian.

MY SISTER: Okay. I’ll have a cheese pizza with ham and pineapple then.

ME (to pizza guy): Okay then I’ll have a ham and pineapple pizza please.

(Audible laughter from people in the pizza place)

PIZZA GUY: We don’t have that.

ME (to my sister): No ham and pineapple.

MY SISTER: Fine. I’ll just have a steak and cheese.

ME (to pizza guy): Okay, then I’d just like a steak and cheese.

PIZZA GUY: So that’s one cheese pizza, half sausage. One large steak pizza. One large cheese pizza. Is that all?

ME: No, a steak and cheese sub.

PIZZA GUY: One cheese pizza, half sausage. One large steak pizza. One large cheese pizza. One steak and cheese sub. Anything else?

ME: No, I meant a steak and cheese sub instead of the Hawaiian pizza.

PIZZA GUY: We don’t make Hawaiian pizza.

ME: I understand that. Okay, let’s just start over-

BECKY, my biggest crush (through the speakerphone): Eric? This is Becky. Are you retarded or something? I’ve been waiting in line here to order for 5 minutes while you’ve been babbling on like an incoherent monkey. The line here is now out the door.

ME: B-Becky? I didn’t know you were there. Sorry, I’m just trying to make this order.

BECKY: Just hurry up. My brother’s blood sugar is low and I need to order a soda for him before it’s too late.

ME: Oh, man. Okay I’ll hurry up. Pizza guy, you there?

PIZZA GUY (shouting): What did you just call me? No one is allowed to call me “pizza guy” but my wife and my parole officer!

ME: Sorry. Let’s just get this over with. I’ll have three large pepperoni pizzas with extra cheese. That’s all.

PIZZA GUY: Three large poison pizzas, extra shit. Got it.

ME: Sorry, what did you say?

PIZZA GUY: Three large pepperoni pizzas, extra cheese.

MY SISTER: But Eric, I don’t want pepperoni!

ME (to my sister): Will you just shut up?

PIZZA GUY: You better watch your mouth, asshole! First you disrespect me and call me “pizza guy,” then you tell me to shut up? You’re messing with the wrong guy! You know, I think I’ll be delivering these pizzas to you myself. What’s your goddam address?

ME: Yeah, umm, I think I’d like to cancel my order.

PIZZA GUY: WHAT’S YOUR ADDRESS!

BECKY: I know where he lives. I’ll take you there. Let’s go.

PIZZA GUY: Alright, good.

(Sound of gun cocking. Voices fade as they walk away from phone)

PIZZA GUY: So, you said you’re Becky. That’s a beautiful name…

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