Thursday Night
Delivering pizza you inately meet a lot of different people which usually leads to quite a few interesting/funny experiences. At least that had been the case the last two summers, but this summer has been comparitively boring. Nothing too funny or memorable, I mean I haven't even delivered once to the Steven Seagal guy or had any strange strip club incident. At least, that was up until last Thursday.
Thursday night was a pretty slow night at Donatos. I was scheduled until close (midnight) and by 10:30 all the other drivers had been sent home. Around 11, I took a delivery over to a nearby apartment complex. I went into the building and knocked on the dorr of who I had thought had ordered. Old lady in the apartment told me she hadn't ordered any pizza that night, so I rechecked my ticket. I noticed that it was flagged as a "new customer" so, as happens many times, I assumed whoever took the order had put down the wrong address because our phones are pretty crappy and you can't always hear people correctly. So I went out and got into my car, and had just flipped open my cell phone to call the customer's phone number to clarify their address, when a young guy knocked on my window. I cracked it slightly and he asked if I was the pizza guy. I said I was and he told me to come back inside and he'd get me the money. I'd seen similar situations occur when a young guy and his friend order pizza but don't tell their parents/grandparents and end up calling Donatos an hour later irate that they never got their food even though their parent had sent the driver away. Thinking this was the case, I followed him back into the apartment building.
When I got into the building, the guy's friend immediately stepped between me and the door. I caught a flash of metal from the corner of my eye, heard a small click, and felt the cool chill from what I can only assume was the end of the barrel of his 9mm semiautomatic pressed against the base of my jaw, right below my ear. My first thought was, "Are you f***ing serious?" (because everyone uses language like that in this situation) and my second thought was, "You know, this thing looked a lot like an Airsoft gun." The bigger guy, rather politely actually, asked where my money was. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wad of $18 in ones and fives. The big guy was not happy with such a small take and kept asking where the rest of my money was. I told him that's all I had, as I thought about the $280 I had in my locked car outside and decided there was no way I was gonna say anything about that money. He check my pockets himself just to make sure for himself as he continued to badger me about more money. I kept reexplaining how we drop off the money after each delivery and holding back the sarcastic comment, "Why would I lie to a guy with a gun in my face?" ironic because I was, in fact, lying to him. At this point, the little guy grabbed my delivery bag, grabbed the pizza they'd ordered, and headed out the door. Then came the moment of truth, it was just him and I, in the empty hallway and it was time to go. I had kept my head and eyes on the floor the entire time hoping he would realize I hadn't seen his face so there was no reason to shoot, but I wasn't confident he was thinking that straight. I was slightly relieved by the thought that if he did pull the trigger, he wasn't aiming at a place that would kill me. Sure, I wouldn't have much of a lower jaw left, but I'm pretty sure I had a chance of surviving. Luckily, we didn't have to test my theory. He pressed the gun a little deeper into my jaw (like you always see in movies or on TV) just to reassert his dominance and ran out the door. So I was left standing by myself in the empty hallway thinking, "What the F*** was THAT?" (The language was still appropriate.)
I got back to Donatos and told the manager what had happened. So she locked all the doors, called the police, and cancelled all the deliveries we had waiting. I told my story to the one cop when he got there, then had to explain it again to the detective who shower up 45 minutes later. The detective had the previous officer's notes but was mixing up the details. So either he couldn't read well or he wanted to make sure I was faking the story. At one point he asked me about the guy with the shaved head, white shirt and full head of hair. If he wasn't trying to initially mix up the details, then I can see why Speedway cops never really do much except for catch kids smoking pot or drinking and ignore it. Needless to say we closed early so I went over to BW's to chill out for a bit, and found Thomas and Nater there, told them the story. After a while, I went home, told Andy, and went to bed.
The weird thing about it was a I can't remember being scared during the whole thing. At first, I couldn't believe it was happening, then I didn't believe it was a real gun, and finally the only thought I had was "How can I talk my way out of this?" To a lot of people's surprise I showed up to work the next day. Donatos has very bad inner communication and even the closing manager hadn't heard about it. Luckily I didn't have to deliver to that complex that night, or any of the night since, but I've been a lot more observant these last three nights. My mom told me I should quit or at least find a different job next summer because this one was too dangerous. I had never thought of it as dangerous and had just accepted that there was a chance of getting robbed just like at any other business. It happened at BW's last summer. Considering it's been years since it happened at Donatos, I didn't really expect it to actually happen. But I think it's one of those things like a bad car wreck you walk away from unhurt, you just chalk it up as an experience and try to make sure it doesn't happen again.
Thursday night was a pretty slow night at Donatos. I was scheduled until close (midnight) and by 10:30 all the other drivers had been sent home. Around 11, I took a delivery over to a nearby apartment complex. I went into the building and knocked on the dorr of who I had thought had ordered. Old lady in the apartment told me she hadn't ordered any pizza that night, so I rechecked my ticket. I noticed that it was flagged as a "new customer" so, as happens many times, I assumed whoever took the order had put down the wrong address because our phones are pretty crappy and you can't always hear people correctly. So I went out and got into my car, and had just flipped open my cell phone to call the customer's phone number to clarify their address, when a young guy knocked on my window. I cracked it slightly and he asked if I was the pizza guy. I said I was and he told me to come back inside and he'd get me the money. I'd seen similar situations occur when a young guy and his friend order pizza but don't tell their parents/grandparents and end up calling Donatos an hour later irate that they never got their food even though their parent had sent the driver away. Thinking this was the case, I followed him back into the apartment building.
When I got into the building, the guy's friend immediately stepped between me and the door. I caught a flash of metal from the corner of my eye, heard a small click, and felt the cool chill from what I can only assume was the end of the barrel of his 9mm semiautomatic pressed against the base of my jaw, right below my ear. My first thought was, "Are you f***ing serious?" (because everyone uses language like that in this situation) and my second thought was, "You know, this thing looked a lot like an Airsoft gun." The bigger guy, rather politely actually, asked where my money was. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wad of $18 in ones and fives. The big guy was not happy with such a small take and kept asking where the rest of my money was. I told him that's all I had, as I thought about the $280 I had in my locked car outside and decided there was no way I was gonna say anything about that money. He check my pockets himself just to make sure for himself as he continued to badger me about more money. I kept reexplaining how we drop off the money after each delivery and holding back the sarcastic comment, "Why would I lie to a guy with a gun in my face?" ironic because I was, in fact, lying to him. At this point, the little guy grabbed my delivery bag, grabbed the pizza they'd ordered, and headed out the door. Then came the moment of truth, it was just him and I, in the empty hallway and it was time to go. I had kept my head and eyes on the floor the entire time hoping he would realize I hadn't seen his face so there was no reason to shoot, but I wasn't confident he was thinking that straight. I was slightly relieved by the thought that if he did pull the trigger, he wasn't aiming at a place that would kill me. Sure, I wouldn't have much of a lower jaw left, but I'm pretty sure I had a chance of surviving. Luckily, we didn't have to test my theory. He pressed the gun a little deeper into my jaw (like you always see in movies or on TV) just to reassert his dominance and ran out the door. So I was left standing by myself in the empty hallway thinking, "What the F*** was THAT?" (The language was still appropriate.)
I got back to Donatos and told the manager what had happened. So she locked all the doors, called the police, and cancelled all the deliveries we had waiting. I told my story to the one cop when he got there, then had to explain it again to the detective who shower up 45 minutes later. The detective had the previous officer's notes but was mixing up the details. So either he couldn't read well or he wanted to make sure I was faking the story. At one point he asked me about the guy with the shaved head, white shirt and full head of hair. If he wasn't trying to initially mix up the details, then I can see why Speedway cops never really do much except for catch kids smoking pot or drinking and ignore it. Needless to say we closed early so I went over to BW's to chill out for a bit, and found Thomas and Nater there, told them the story. After a while, I went home, told Andy, and went to bed.
The weird thing about it was a I can't remember being scared during the whole thing. At first, I couldn't believe it was happening, then I didn't believe it was a real gun, and finally the only thought I had was "How can I talk my way out of this?" To a lot of people's surprise I showed up to work the next day. Donatos has very bad inner communication and even the closing manager hadn't heard about it. Luckily I didn't have to deliver to that complex that night, or any of the night since, but I've been a lot more observant these last three nights. My mom told me I should quit or at least find a different job next summer because this one was too dangerous. I had never thought of it as dangerous and had just accepted that there was a chance of getting robbed just like at any other business. It happened at BW's last summer. Considering it's been years since it happened at Donatos, I didn't really expect it to actually happen. But I think it's one of those things like a bad car wreck you walk away from unhurt, you just chalk it up as an experience and try to make sure it doesn't happen again.