Beware the Pizza Man

I didn’t order any pizza, but you look legit. What smells like chloroform?

So on the weekend I decided to order pizza and chill at home because, well I like pizza and it was freezing outside. Why I am justifying my decisions to you? Where were you? You seem to know an awful lot about this Pizza story for an “innocent” bystander.

*deep breath

Okay, let’s start again. I decided to order pizza from the local pizza delivery place and after the 40 minute waiting period I received a phone call from the pizza place saying the delivery boy was outside the gate because the security guard wouldn’t let him up to my place.

Now first of all what is the point of ordering a pizza delivery to avoid going out in the cold, if you still have to go out in the cold. This was particularly strange to me since I had ordered pizza the week before and the delivery boy dropped it off at my place without any issues. What? I like pizza. I went for a run the next day. Stop judging me. I was too hungry to argue with the woman on the phone so I just ran outside to the security gate to pay for my pizza, but before I walked back I asked the security guard why the pizza boy wasn’t allowed past security.

He told me the superintendent of the complex had issued a new order saying that pizza deliveries had to be collected at the front gate. When I asked why this was he said because the superintendent felt that there was a risk of these pizza boys attacking or raping one of the other tenants.

Yeah…..

Sure thing…

The 45kg, 16 year old, scooter driving pizza boy is going to attack and rape us.

These kids pretty much get fired for being more than a minute late where the hell are they supposed to fit in the time for some attacking and raping?

How are they even supposed to get into anyone’s apartment?

*knock knock*

“Who is it?”

“Pizza delivery”

“We didn’t order any pizza”

“Well can I still come in and attack you… please hurry I have to be at my next delivery in 5 minutes”

Where did the superintendent get the idea that pizza boys are violent sexual deviants unless he watches A LOT of porn?

All of a sudden the superintendent seems way creepier than before. Thanks for ruining pizza for me too, jerk.

The Freaks Come out at Night: The Bouncer

Doesn't look too bouncy to me

What a terribly misleading name: “Bouncer”. It brings images of a rotund and jolly individual known for his boisterous laughter as much as his philanthropy. Instead in my experience most bouncers are steroid fuelled shaved head rage-aholics who can’t go five minutes without a glass of rage-ahol and would sooner stab you in the face with bottle than smile.

There they are; the first person you have to interact with on your magical evening if you don’t count all the freaks in the line. Squeezed into a suit and looking like a shaved gorilla they slowly assess everyone’s suitability for the fine establishment – meaning guys, you better all be wearing a collared shirt and leather shoes or you won’t be classy enough for the place which smells of sweat, vomit and broken dreams and looks like it was decorated by a gay robot (one which was programmed by a 70’s mafia boss with a penchant for animal print).

It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing expensive sneakers or an exclusive designer T-shirt, if you’re not dressed in the douche bag uniform you’re not getting in (this point has be well noted in my “secret ways to not have to go the nightclub” guide to be published soon). I even saw someone try argue with the bouncer saying he’s Vegan and doesn’t believe in killing animals for leather to which the bouncer elegantly retorted: “I don’t care what your f**king name is Kegan, you can’t come in if your shoes aren’t leather” and then something along the lines of “Are you looking at me or are you chewing bricks, cos either way you’re losing teeth?”

Wow the lines these guys use. There are some absolute literary pearls out there and I do suggest you try hear as many as possible hopefully not directed at you as it can often be the last thing one hears. Personally one of my favourites must be “The call me the VET, cos I’m looking after some sick puppies” (at which point they will kiss their biceps referring to them as puppies).

Where do they get these beef busses from? Are they genetically bred for the single purpose of making the night club experience less enjoyable (as if that were possible)? After getting past the “clipboard bouncer” who looks like he could snap my spine with the 5 mm of plywood clipboard and then the ever so surly cashier/stamp troll, I then have to get patted down by another frisky shaven gorilla before showing them my stamp.

Why am I showing you my stamp? You are standing less than a metre from the stampy cashier troll lady. You saw me pay! You saw me get stamped! What did you think somehow an alternate reality version of me switched places with me between payment, stamping and the 1 and half seconds it takes me to get to you? Oh! That is the reason? Okay then, suppose you can never be too careful.

At least at that stage you are in the club. Yay! (Sarcasm font required) and the adventure can begin and that is the last you will see of the bouncer unless he decides to kick your ass for breathing funny because he sure as hell doesn’t get involved in stopping any fights that may break out (usually because they’re the ones that started it in the first place).

One freak down many to go… next up: The Bartender.