Pizza Delivery.

Most of my posts seem to be somehow take-away related; well two.

Last night I was at a friends house with a couple of others, and we decided we'd order food and rent a film. Using my organisational skills, I ordered the food to be delivered around the time we'd be returning with the film (Open Season)....foolproof...

As we pulled into my friend's drive, the pizza delivery woman had just arrived.
Perfect!

I leapt out of the car, and ran towards her. She rang the doorbell (seemingly unaware that I was behind her) and stood for a moment. I stood behind her silently then announced my arrival loudly, in a way that can only be done by an irritating Englishman.

Judging by her reaction, our brief, yet tumultuous relationship wasn't off to the best start.

Me - "Er, so what do I owe you then?" I sheepishly reached for my wallet, feeling guilty that I'd scared the barer of sustenance.

Her - "Do you have any I.D on you?"

Me - (Puzzled) "Well no, it's only Open Season...I think it's primarily for a younger audience. Why-"

Her - "No, I mean for the pizza."

(A long pause.)

Me - "What?"

(Another long pause. The extra garlic dip I ordered tumbles from the satchel. The clatter is the only sound to penetrate the awkwardness.)

Her - "Well you know, we've had a lot of people just turn up and claim pizzas that aren't theirs. It's illegal, you see."

(I stare at her.)

Me - "Don't they have to pay?"

Her - "Well, yes."

Me - "It's not the perfect crime, is it?"

(She looks at me. She studies me for a second, before deciding that I don't seem the type to pay for food that I didn't order. I have enough trouble paying for food I DO order.)

Her - "Ten pounds please."