Because we need good stories. Please check out the link as the full story is too long for posting here.
notalwaysright.com/My husband has been a delivery driver at the local pizza place for over a year. Whenever anyone asks him for his best crazy work story, this is the one he tells.
One night, about two weeks after he starts working there, they get an order for pickup from a guy over the phone. My husband takes the order, hands off the receipt, and then fusses around for a bit doing other things. Then, the phone rings again.
Husband: “[Pizza Place], [Husband] speaking. How can I help?”
This time, it’s a girl on the phone.
Caller: *Sniffling* “D-d-did you guys get an order for [specific pizza] and a drink a little while ago? For [Guy]?”
Husband: “Y-yeah, yes. Was it your order? It’s not quite ready yet.”
Caller: *Now actually crying* “N-no, my b-boyfriend took our last twenty bucks and took off in our car to pick it up. W-we don’t get paid until Thursday, and our baby girl is almost out of f-f-formula, and the shops are gonna c-close, but he’s g-got my car—”
My husband thinks of me at home with our six-month-old daughter and remembers when she was born and he was unemployed. He glances at the clock. There are ten minutes before the grocery store closes.
Husband: “What’s your address, and what formula does the baby need?”
The caller protests, clearly embarrassed. My husband doesn’t give up; he gets her address and finds out what formula she needs, and he finds out that the baby is only TWO WEEKS OLD, so this poor girl is still in a post-partum haze while her boyfriend is acting like this.
He zips to the shops and grabs two tins of formula and a couple of other essentials, like a pack of newborn nappies, some dummies [pacifiers], and other random things he remembers being stressed about buying for our baby. Then, he races back to the pizza place.
... (Story about bad BF)
My husband gathered up the pizza and the baby things and prepared to take them out to the address. The chef shoved a couple of containers of pasta on top — enough to last a hungry mum of a newborn at least a few days until payday — and his boss scribbled a note on the pizza box saying that if she decided she was going the single mum route to come see him about a job, or even just a meal if she was hungry.
When my husband got out to the house, the mum was no longer in tears. She was MAD. Two men — who my husband found out were her dad and brother — were helping her put all of Mr. Gangster’s belongings out onto the verandah.
My husband handed her the bag of baby stuff and the pizza, which did make her start crying again, and he got to boop her tiny baby on the nose. He had to get back to work, so he didn’t stick around to find out if the guy came back.
While my husband was trying to leave, the mum’s dad pulled him aside and shook his hand, saying she’d be very well taken care of, and that he and his wife had plenty of money but his daughter’s abusive boyfriend had made her cut contact with them months before. He’d been elated to get her call and had raced over to help his daughter. He shoved more than enough cash into my husband’s hand to cover the baby supplies and food, despite my husband’s reluctance to take it, and told him again that he was a good man.
To this day, my husband doesn’t think what he did was anything special; to him, it was helping out someone in a really hard situation that he’d been in only a couple of months prior. I disagree, though. I think he’s pretty awesome.
