When I told Carl that I couldn't be at his house at 3 this afternoon when his daughter would be getting off the bus, he asked why. I told him he didn't need to know, which proceeded to become a minor, amusing point of contension for the next 24 hours.
"I'm sure gonna miss you...."
"Oh yeah? Where am I going?"
"I don't know! *glare of consternation* You won't tell me!"
I did not refuse to tell him because I'm embarrassed to be this town's newest hot wing-slinging pie jockey. I mean, pizza girls can be hot. As per a conversation with R, I have seriously considered growing some dreds, slashing my competition's tires, and becoming a street racer after-no...during work hours. I will take no shit and hustle pies on these mean (ok, suburban) streets faster and with more sass than any of the grizzled vets. I'll start a pizza-driver gang and we'll call ourselves Chicks With Breadsticks, or Hot Pie.
...maybe not Hot Pie, but you get me. I know you get me. You are thinking Angelina Jolie in Gone in Sixty Seconds just like I am.
I didn't tell him because this might be the dumbest idea I've had since H & R Block. And the only thing worse than being totally wrong or failing miserably is failing miserably at something incredibly stupid. Which would be embarrassing.
But, so far, so good. In four hours I made about as much money in tips as I made by cashing in six months of saved change. And that's with being totally late to half of the deliveries, having to actually call one customer and get directions to her house, and only really delivering things for three and a half hours. I was sort of wishing that this would suck and totally not be worth my time, and I could just turn down the job offer and no one would ever know of my stupid stuuupid venture into the world of food delivery, but it actually seems kind of fun, so would anyone like breadsticks with that?
I also wish that it wasn't true that I watched the full hour of Britney and Kevin: Chaotic last night and found myself entirely mesmerized by the prospect of Britney Spears and her breasts boinking that skinny little punk like a coked-up rabbit in heat, but it is.