Amateur Megalomania

Yeah, I’ve been away awhile.  I keep teasing you with promises to blog more, only to leave the page distressingly blank.  I’m sure you all are pining for more content, waiting breathlessly for my latest dollop of nonsense.

I can only wish.

I’ve been busy.  And sick.  The sick part is essentially dull to anyone other than me.  (As I’m sure most of my posts are as well…but let’s ignore that for a moment).  I love my children, but once kids start going to school, they tend to bring home whatever aggressive pathogen that hitched a ride to school with some other kid.  Germs all around.

When I haven’t been coughing up my lungs, I’ve been toiling away at a second job.  For this, I blame Dave Ramsey.  The guy just makes too much sense about financial freedom and wealth building, so I swallowed the Kool-Aid and am now running pizza for Papa Johns, three nights a week.  I’ve never delivered food before, so imagine my surprise when I learn I actually enjoy the work.  The time passes quickly, I pocket an extra $12-$15 per hour, and I get to listen to my Dave Ramsey CDs (encouraging the Kool-Aid effect even more).

It really is interesting work.  For one, just about everyone is happy to see a guy show up with food.  Every delivery is a bit of a puzzle as I have to figure out the best way to the location, and then try to find a poorly illuminated address in a driving snowstorm.  Then there is the Great Tip Mystery.

People, it is okay to tip the pizza guy.  He’s out in horrid weather, delivering high-calorie food to the willfully immobile.  There are places in the world where people can’t get food at all, yet you can have a hot meal in a half hour with no more effort than a phone call or a log-on to a web site.  Isn’t that worth an extra couple of bucks to the driver?

It’s a good job.  Even if I am about twice as old as everyone else at the store.  Even if I am using a GPS enabled PDA that is worth more than a couple of the other driver’s vehicles.

And yeah, I’m being safe about it.  Fortunately, I chose a store that services the more affluent regions of town.  I carry the pepper spray, just in case.

At a minimum, the job will give me some interesting stories to relate here.  I’ve already seen some fascinating things.

So tip your driver.  They remember addresses, and it’ll make a difference the next time you want hot food without having to stir yourself from the couch.

Filed under: Personal