I delivered pizza one summer in college. I was 19. Didn’t see anything too weird. Three memories have stuck in my mind.

1. I had to deliver to THAT house. It was at the extreme radius of our delivery area. Picture a scene from a horror movie. I drove out to a rural area, left the road for a dirt road that was essentially their driveway. It was pitch black on a probably two acre, for lack of a better description, junkyard. I get to the house, which is a mobile home. The illuminated window, the only source of light for what seemed like miles. The guy that answered the door was an older angry guy. He wore a black Harley Davidson t- shirt that did not successfully cover his belly. He had some pretty hard core tattoos and a chain holding his wallet to his filthy jeans. Behind him were a couple of dudes that looked just like him, watching TV. One hand was holding the sprung door from slamming shut. The other was restraining the Rottweiler by its choker chain attached to the spiked collar. I’m pretty sure he was doing this to keep the dog from tearing me apart and burying my bones under the rusty truck with the grass growing out of the tires. Over the noise of the TV, the dudes behind him and the barking of the attack dog, he yelled for his “old lady” to get the fucking money to pay for the god damn pizza. I hated going to that house, because they never tipped.

2. In the '80’s and '90’s there was a place downtown Orlando called Rosie’O Graddys. At its height it occupied a fairly large chunk of the downtown area and had an old time theme. Beautiful model T Fords parked out front for effect. Lots of brass and mahogany inside. The place was expensive. I went there one time with some friends and a drink was $14.00. It was huge and you got to keep the glass but, damn. Could not afford that as a student. Anyway, one day I deliver a pizza to an apartment and it was for one of the waitresses that worked there. I guess she had just gotten off of work because she was still dressed in her costume. It was quite revealing and she wore it well. She turned around to get some money and forever burned the image of those fish net stockings with the line running down the back into my mind. At that moment I was wishing that those porno movies where the pizza guy gets swept up in the story were real. Nope. She did give me a nice tip though. Makes sense since she worked for tips too.

3. I was delivering a pizza to a house in a nice neighborhood. The rain was coming down in biblical proportions. In fact it wasn’t falling from the sky. It was being driven sideways. So I’m standing at this guy’s front door digging through my change bag trying to find, literally coins, to give him his change. Finally, with my hands full of the empty pizza bag and my change pouch that the wind was trying to rip from my hands, and getting soaked by the horizontal rain, I finally just pulled out a dollar and essentially tipped the customer, just to get back to my car. Sucked.

So nothing too weird, but hey, I figured you were just looking for some stories anyway.

I don’t any more but I used to.

The one that comes to mind was an elderly lady who got into some kind of finch-type bird (canaries maybe) instead of cats. She had obviously been letting them breed because there was flock of about 40 of them in the house, all flying together from one piece of furniture to the next.

I found it pretty alarming to begin with but after half an hour or so I could appreciate the beauty of it.

Plenty of bird shit in places though.

Weirdest thing I’ve seen was a house that had no books. It was surreal that there was a TV in each room, even small ones mounted in the bathrooms, but not a single book in the house. Mister was a bus driver, wife was some kind of a school administrator. But not a single written word anywhere under that roof that wasn’t on a label. It made me sad for the kids.

Grossest was a guy’s computer was misbehaving and I showed up to fix it. Every single icon and image was porn. Every. Single. One. The background was a rotating slideshow of various porn images. The worst part was when I felt the mouse was sticky, I got up to wash my hands and the faux leather chair was sticky too. Everything around the porn computer was sticky. It was honestly too much and I took an early lunch, called my boss that I wasn’t feeling well, and explained I wasn’t going to work on that computer. My boss was mad at first, came out to finish the job, and then added the guy to the fired customer list. Fuck that house. It also smelled weird. Like off fruit. And I can never forget that call. Nice neighborhood, great house, nice yard - absolutely disgusting person behind it all.