Number of Deliveries: 7
Sales: $387.63
Tips: $49
Hours: 2.33
Total Wage: $29.03 per hour
He looks like a computer programmer. By that I mean he's tall, white, hunched at the shoulders from leaning his head toward the computer screen all day, and dorky. He answers the door wearing an old, poorly fitting T-shirt. I tell him whoever took his order got the credit card number wrong, so if he still wants to pay by credit card he'll have to call the manager and sort it out. He says, "Can we just pay cash?" I tell him, yes, that would be even better. Before he walks away, he turns and says, "Well, I want to make sure my card doesn't get charged, though." I tell him we can't possibly charge his card, because we have the wrong number. "Oh," he says and walks off to find cash.
I hear him asking his wife if she has any cash. She, a short Asian woman, runs by in aquamarine sweatpants and matching T-shirt, says hello, then bolts up the stairs. "I have one," she shouts, before running back down and handing him a twenty. He shows back up to the door with two twenties, enough to cover the $36.53 bill and tip. I thank him for the cash, but he wants to say something more. "So, should I call and make sure they don't charge my card?" I look at him, incredulous. He probably went to a good university, has a great job that bought him this nice house, and he even figured out how to find a woman who would marry him. But this stumps him.
"Like I said, we don't have the right number, so how can we charge your card?" He looks shamed, but still doesn't seem to get it. He closes the door, having to trust in the logic of a pizza guy.
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