"Pizza Slut" Or "If You Don't Come In 30 Minutes Or Less, It's Free"
For whatever reasons, nostalgia paid me a visit the other day. A memory of an event over a decade and a half old, that was an agonizing embarrassment at the time, but now makes me giggle like a fiend. When I was approaching 15 years old, I desperately wanted a job, as my finances were, apparently, transforming from "squat" to "nonexistent". However, one must be at least 16 years old in the state of Georgia to be employed. Though, as luck would have it, my best friend, Melissa, had a brother that worked at a local Domino's Pizza, and better yet, the manager was her cousin. So, every now and then, he would let her come in to answer the phones and her "paycheck" consisted of some of the cash tips that came in. One day when I was particularly frustrated about my non-income situation, she suggested that I call Domino's and inquire about working there as she does. Having never needed to "pitch" myself to anyone before, my nerves were strung-tight, and with my clammy hand on the receiver, I practiced introducing myself aloud to Melissa until I no longer felt the lump in my throat. I took a deep breath, dialed the number, and as it rang, I frantically searched my brain for the exact words I had just spoken to Melissa seconds before. Just when I was about to hang up, I heard a man's voice: "Domino's Pizza. Can I help you?" "Um...uh...yeah...um...Are you hiring call girls?" "*stifled laughing* Well, I don't know. *yelling* Hey! Tim! Are we hiring call girls? *uproarious laughter*" Mortified, I slammed the receiver down, my head in my hands, face turning hot, with Melissa, giggling, "Phone girl, Buffy. Phone girl."