Look, before we begin, I just want to remind you that the delivery policy at Brickyard Pizza is ironclad. If I can’t get your order to you in less than 45 minutes from the time you call in, it’s free. Once I didn’t deliver an order in time and the customer laughed in my face and sent me away without a tip. When I got back to the restaurant, my boss tore me a new one. There were tears. That day, I decided I would never go through so much humiliation again.
So when you ordered and I saw that your address fell right on the edge of our delivery zone, nearly four miles due north from the store, I knew the promise I had made to myself was finally going to be tested. Nothing was going to stop me from getting you your pizza on time. Not traffic on Howard St., not a light flurry of snow, not even an adorable little puppy, frolicking in the street, unaware of its impending doom.
When I first saw the little fella, I’ll admit it, I hesitated. I looked at the clock on my dashboard and I only had two minutes left. Then I looked at the pup’s fluffy ears and big, kind eyes glowing from the light of my headlights, and a part of me deep down knew I should swerve. But how could I? If I swerved, I’d get stuck in a bank of snow and never make it down the rest of the street in time. I had two promises to choose from: one with your dog, to look out for him as a fellow mortal vessel in this universe. And another, more important promise to myself and my beloved company, to not lose the company a single dime. I guess you know by now which one I chose to keep.
So I drove head-on to my destination, leaving my victim in my wake. I heard a high-pitched whimper, followed by a strange sound that can only be compared to popping a really big zit. I turned back to see the damage—maybe by some miracle, he survived the blow—but he was a goner.
I pulled up to your house with seconds, a feeling of total redemption washing over me. But then you kinda ruined the moment when you opened the door, saw what happened, and just started yelling awful things to me like, “What have you done to my dog?” And, “Oh my God! You killed it!” You could’ve been a bit more supportive. I mean, I had risked the bumper of my ride to get you that pizza on time.
I don’t mean to glorify my experiences. War heros don’t like to talk about their time in the trenches. It brings back painful memories of lives lost for the greater good. I just did my job. I got you that pizza. But if you ask me, it was the pinnacle of my pizza delivery career.