The Pizza Conspiracy

One of my first jobs was as a pizza delivery guy.  I’m sure some of you are thinking that everyday as a pizza guy is like it is in porn.  You know…where the delivery guy shows up to the door and a scantily clad goddess answers the door wearing only a thong made from Red Vines?  She tells you she doesn’t have any money, but if you come inside, you could work “something” out. That “something” usually involves extra sausage.

Let the sexy times ensue.  Am I right? Anyone? I guess you didn’t see that one.

Well, I can assure you this never once happened to me.  Who knew that the world of 1980s porn wasn’t real? They should prepare high school seniors for this reality.  Anyway, I wanted to recount an interesting phenomenon I encountered during several deliveries. It is something both fascinating and somewhat concerning, but not as concerning as devouring three packages of Double-Stuff Oreos in one sitting while watching Meg Ryan movies…not that I would know (he writes with suspicious innocence).

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