Pete DiNunzio 364

Pete desperately needed a job; his father couldn't see him with the Eltingville Club, and he couldn't go to the geek plaza to buy some crap because he didn't have any money.

Besides, his father had obviously already threatened him that if he didn't get one soon, he was going to put him in the military or, failing that, beat the crap out of him.

Anyway, somehow I managed to become a pizza delivery guy. I hated the stupid uniform, the damn schedule, and most of all, having to interact with people. Yeah, I don't care if you have twelve kids and the pizza arrived cold, you should have thought about that before ordering it at fifteen minutes to midnight and hoping the delivery guy wouldn't get lost. Oh, and I don't care that you didn't have change, you waited an hour and thirty-five minutes for this pizza, maybe you could have looked for it during that time... Anyway, I absolutely hated everything about this job, not even the pay was good. It was fucking miserable.

He arrived at your house as his last delivery of the day. He rang the doorbell, then again five seconds later, and then once more five seconds later.

"That damn bitch isn't hurrying, I want to go home."

I complained, huffing and puffing...

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