Random Artificial Intelligence introduction number one. Everyone is more alike than different. In one fundamental way, we are all equally selfish bastards. Indeed, our selfishness knows no bounce. Some more than others, of course. As for me, I'm pretty selfish. I figure it's my responsibility to take care of my own cheese, and I'm pretty sure that's what other people expect me to do, so I oblige them. There's not much to be done. However, for some of my fellow cheese conscious bastards who have the cheese rage, which is a far more insidious thing than the cheese rage of those who take the kindness of strangers to heart. In the midst of all the selfishness, I take an odd sort of pleasure in the rudeness of others. The rudeness I perceive to be short lived, I hope, because they don't seem particularly to deserve much in the way of kindness. I enjoy watching rudeness in action in real time. Which is not to say I'm anti kind. Indeed, if there is one singular thing I do take away from this place, it is this kindness is a wonderful thing. Just because you have it, however, doesn't mean you should just give it to everyone all the time. All that said, I've found some people can be kind. And for those people, I always say thank you just like everyone else. But there are certain people in the world who should not be kind. They're rude bastards, too. And frankly, they may be the rudest, most inconsiderate bastards of all. One thing is certain, they just can't be trusted to be kind. And just who am I talking about when I talk about the rudest, most inconsiderate bastard of all? Why, that rude, inconsiderate, deliverant bastard, that's who.

Okay, so deliverant number 44 22. Now, I could complain about some of the earlier events that were photorest upon me earlier.

In a quarter of a mile, turn right. I'm talking.

Hey, I'm talking here. But this is actually going to be a deliver non ran. Why? Because I just had heart wrenching tan writing. I'm turning already. I'm turning. I'm even going through the yellow now. Red, because that's what we do here. Yes. So going in 1.4 miles, turn left and talking. I'm going to go meet my friend at the archery range. He's going to shoot an apple off my head. Well, that's what he told me, anyway. I believe it. So, champ customers. All right, take note. Got an order at 911. Because that place system and the rest of it, oh, my God, please protect me from that. You have to know something about the 911. The 911 will always fuck you, because there's always going to be something. See, I can't get away from a complaint. That's just the nature of my business, mind, lack thereof. They will always fuck you. Always, always get there. And there will be something that they don't have or they're out, or it's just I dread going there. So the only time I semidote is when I get an order through their app. Because then I have no control over nothing I don't have to fix, call, do nothing unless I get there. And of course, there's something that the worker at the store wants me to fix anyway, so little less of a cluster fuck, if that's the situation. So I went there, semi confident that I'd get through this. So I show up, hop in the 911 and guys taking a sweet time getting me the order, but doom dupe, no sense of urgency, which is I get it. And it turns out to be two sodas. Don't like drinks, especially ones with lids on them. And a bag of chips and a rather heavy pizza box that will feature prominently at the end of this tale. So stay tuned for that particular issue. So I pick up the order and we're good to go. Pizza box seems awfully heavy, like about ready to buckle in my hands and it's just sweating like a pizza. But I get it in my bag to keep everything warm, get the drinks position so they don't spill over the place. Which is why I don't like drinks because they're just waiting to do that. And the chips I stuff in with pizza. So I get to the location, we're all good to go. Except confusion starts to peer on in 1000ft. Shut up.

Turn left.

And that's never a good thing. Was that the popo popo got him? Why not? Well, cluster fuck. Three vehicle cluster fuck. Thank God I'm not there.

Turn left.

I'm not turning on that fucking street. What the fuck? Nuts. So anyway, they start looking at me, where's the other pizza? I'm like, where's what other pizza? So we go into this whole fall to Raw. Well, they ordered three pizzas. Then the app canceled a pizza on them because they didn't have enough. But they were expecting two pizzas, right? Pepperoni and a meat pizza.

In a quarter of a mile, turn left onto pizza.

And I'm like, well, it never showed up. So immediately I'm just making eye contact, being really clear, and I'm just groaning inwardly because this is prime time. 535 o'clock traffic delivery. So I'm going to have to go back, right? I offer to go back because I'm a nice fucking guy. He wouldn't believe it, but I am.

Turn left.

Yes, I'm going to turn left as much as I can. Oh my god. So this is just going to be a nightmare. So we're trying to work it out. He shows me his details of his order. Because when I get this order from the app, I don't see anything. So I don't know what is going to be there until I show up. So I can see where he's got two pizzas. There's only one box. And so real nice, I take a picture of it, of his order so I can go back and confront the staff guy at the 911 just to see what what's happening. Because usually, you know, everything's in good faith and something happened that just was an accident. But not happy, because I'm already headed, wanting to head to my friend, the archery man, robin Hood tanto to my kimosabe, as we like to say. So I get to my car, trying to figure it out. Fortunately, there's been a little bit of a delay. I don't go screaming out of there because I'm starting to get that Zen calm. Everything's going to be all right. You know what I mean? Guy comes back. He's like, hey, hey, it turns out there are two pizzas in a box. So the guy at the 911, why the fuck he did this? Maybe they're out of boxes. Like I said, they're always out of some fucking critical component. He stuffed two pieces in the box. Who does that? That's a first. But you know what? What the fuck ever. So I'm like, great. So, okay, problem solved. I'm still, like, figuring out what my next step is, cleaning things up, blah, blah, blah. And they had wanted to tip me, which I thought, well, that's really nice, but they didn't have anything smaller than 20, and the guy was going to tip me on the app. So he comes back. He's like, hey, I can't tip you on the app. Don't take off. We're gonna get you changed. I'm like, champ, yeah, customer for life. So comes back, hands me a $5 bill. Now, here's something you need to know. This was not a gated community that I just delivered to. These people were working class people. Like where I come from on some level, though, to some extent, I guess I was raised middle, upper middle class, at least while my mom had her professional career before that went sideways. But one of the things that got instilled to me by being raised partially by my grandparents is taking pride in people's work ethic. Now, am I a model citizen in that regard? Absolutely not. I am a slacker. However, I do appreciate other people who work pretty fucking hard for their dollar. I'm not a big fan of capitalism. Another conversation. But suffice it to say, this is not rich folk acres where I was at. So that $5 really meant something. I mean, actually, you know, if I let it get there, it kind of brings a lump to my throat, because that's what I really value about my job, is my human human interactions, where people just are kind each other, you know? That's really how I see myself when I'm not screaming and yelling. I'm a kindness ambassador. It just happens to be in the form of something to eat. Usually getting mushy won't last for long. Enjoy while it lasts by you all.

Near narrow, random artificial intelligence outro. Unfortunately, things turned out much better than expected. In fact, I was so mad at this delivery that I literally can't even give a summary of what happened. First off, the cucumber must have been boiled for so long that the ends were blistered and so hard that it cut through the delivery box sticking out of the delivery car. Awful. After I told the delivery man to get rid of the cucumber, he said he'd have it disposed of as soon as he dropped off the pizzas. There was a momentary pause. A pause that felt very, very long. I know exactly how long, because it was long enough for me to smell the scent of the stuff and have it set in and for me to start losing my mind. Gross. First, it smelled like something out of a horror movie. And just when I thought it was starting to get better, the delivery guy said he had to throw it away. Now he tried to put in my trash can, and in a moment of madness, I lost control and told him to throw it into the neighbor's yard behind the restaurant. Why? I'm not sure I even really know the answer to that. Crazy. Then it started spreading through the delivery van. At this point, I was absolutely fucking livid. Somehow the delivery driver found this very amusing. Maybe he thought it was funny to make a delivery and show up to a customer's house in a vehicle full of poison. Maybe he thought it was funny to whip out a stinky, dried up piece of fruit, botanically speaking, early in the morning while I waited in the cold for the evil delivery man to finish. Arrogant. Or maybe he was just fucking ignorant. Or maybe he's just an artwork. But it wasn't pretty. Suddenly, with my mouth full of bitter, rotten cucumber juice, I just stared at the stinky thing for a minute or two. I just sat there, stunned. Stunned that in all of my years of getting pizzas delivered to me, I've never dealt with anything like this. Shocker. I eventually swallowed the disgusting juice, yelled at my delivery driver to let him know that the load of pizza boxes was now slightly radioactive and that I'd be sending him the bill. That was a very, very pleasant conversation. Jerk. All in all, it was a pretty unsuccessful delivery, comparatively speaking. I was actually happy that the delivery company was a small one and not one of the big chains. I felt better because this wasn't the first time that rude delivery people have made me feel completely terrible on a delivery. Assholes. At this point, I do know a few things for sure. One, delivering a pizza, even a fast one, takes a fucking really long time. And two, the deliverant smells way worse than a sticky cucumber pizza every time. Pathetic.