The seven pizza boxes stacked on the counter towered over my head.
"Bob, you can't be serious. How am I supposed to deliver those? I can't even lift them all!"
"Don't worry! The guy said he'd meet you on the street. It's some sort of office, and he said it was hard to find. Oh! He wanted four 2-liters!" Bob practically ran into the back, leaving me to carry the seven pizzas three and four at a time to Lisa. He met me at the door with all four colas just as I finished. "Now, he's going to meet you on the street by the address. He'll have people there to carry all of it in, so you don't have to do anything but get there. Got it? Good. See you soon!"
I sat the sodas on the floor in the back seat, got myself situated, and glanced at the clock as I turned the key in the ignition. 7:13. I shifted into overdrive as I swore I would beat Ice with raw pizza dough if he wasn't here by the time I got back. Luckily, it didn't take me much longer to get to this delivery than it did to get to the one in Chinatown. However, the address put me in what essentially amounted to a wide, dead-end alley.
I was getting fairly suspicious that we had just been pranked. It wouldn't be the first time that someone had called and ordered an ungodly amount of food to a place that didn't really exist. At least this time there were only seven rather than fifteen that I had to eat, and fortunately, none had olives. I pulled out my cell phone to ask Bob for advice, but I was surprised to find that I had no service. Weird. In the middle of a city where people have this almost-pathological need to be connected, you would think there wouldn't be a dead spot. Well, unless someone had bought a jammer; high-end restaurants and movie theaters sometimes have them, but I didn't think I was in that kind of neighborhood. I was in luck, though- past the dumpster and the loose garbage bags, Lisa's headlights glinted off the glass of a relic that I thought went the way of eight track tapes and leg warmers: a phone booth. The alley was empty and silent except for a little mechanical whirr that I thought was probably just a barely-functional air conditioner from the apartments upstairs, so I got out of the car and began walking over, hoping that I either had change, or that the phone card Mom had bought me when I went to school still had a couple minutes on it.
I swear on a stack of bibles that there was no one in that phone booth when I got out of the car. Somehow, while I had turned around to lock Lisa up, someone had appeared inside the booth and exited as soon as I'd turned around, slamming the door with a bang that made me jump. I almost had a heart attack when I saw him. Well, when you're a female pizza ninja in a dark alley by yourself with no cell phone reception, and see a guy with a linebacker build that has about a foot and a half on you in height, what would you think? I closed my hand around the pepper spray in my jacket pocket. "Er..." I said.
The bald man walked purposefully toward me, his long black coat trailing out behind him in the slight breeze. His brown eyes narrowed as he spoke, "When it snows in Baltimore, does it rain in Orlando?"
This might not be the strangest question anyone has ever asked me, but it gets bonus points for the circumstances. Having only been to Boston twice in my life, I had no idea what east coast US weather patterns were like. "Er... what?"
He shook his head. "When it snows in Baltimore, does it rain in Orlando?"
At this point, I was sure I was dealing with a crazy person and began backing away. "Um... I don't know... no? I'm from Oregon!"
He looked up toward the sky and sighed. Then he composed himself and turned his attention back to me. "Look, are you with N1NJ4 Pizza?" he asked.
"Er... yes." It took a moment before the little light went on. "Oh! Oh, pizza! You had the big order, right? With the four two-liters?"
The man nodded as his stance visibly changed. He seemed more friendly now. He reached into his wallet and held out a fifty. "It's not much of a tip, I know," he said apologetically, "but... you know..."
I didn't really, but I accepted it all the same. I still needed money, and really, nine dollars wasn't too bad. "Frankly, I'm just glad you showed up!" I said as I opened Lisa's passenger side door, "I'd hate to have to eat seven pizzas on my paycheck."
The man's brow knotted in the center. "I only ordered five," he said.
"Well, now, why do I have seven?" I glanced through the boxes, and sure enough, there were two with a different address label. I forced myself not to swear in front of the customer, and lifted the correct five pizzas out of the car. "Sorry about that- my mistake. Um, should I help you carry these..." I looked around at the lack of anything nearby. "Where should I help you carry these?"
"That's all right, miss. My associates will help me."
I swear on a stack of bibles and thirty pounds of good chocolate that I did not see the two men behind me. They came out of nowhere, and lifted the stack of pizzas right out of my arms before I could even say anything. When I did finally get sounds to come out of my mouth, they were about an octave higher than normal at first. "Oh... Okay. Um, here's your drinks." I handed the sodas off to the man in the black coat. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," the man said as he began walking back down the alley.
"Um- hey," I said, my curiosity overriding my common sense. "What was that back there?"
He turned back to me, jaw squared, all business again. "I'm sorry miss- need-to-know basis only."
Something in his voice made me decide that I really didn't need to know. "Okay, sir. Have a good night."
"Same to you, miss," he said as he strode toward the phone booth with the other two men. I really couldn't tell where they were going, and I really didn't care. All I wanted to do was get back in the car and put this crazy night far behind me, and that's just what I did. Funny thing, though: you'd have thought I'd been able to see them when I turned on the headlights.
I stared out at the suddenly empty alleyway in confusion. What were these guys, ninjas? Secret agents? Both? At this point, my exhaustion overrode my curiosity, and I decided to blow it off and just go home. However, that wasn't going to be; just as I backed out of the alley, my phone beeped with a voice mail alert. I was willing to bet that this had something to do with the extra two pizzas that had showed up in my car.
"Hey, Maria, it's Bob. I forgot to tell you- the guy's going to ask you something about weather, and you have to tell him 'Yes, but only if it's foggy in Atlanta.' Got that?"
Thanks Bob. What a wonderful help you are.
"Also, I think you grabbed two extra pizzas on your way out after that big order."
That you placed conveniently on the stack of five. Right.
"You need to drop them off- the address is on the boxes. It's a little out of the way, but it's no problem for you, right?"
No. No problem at all, Bob, except that it is now 7:38, according to the clock on my dashboard. I have worked more than a half hour over, and because I work part time, I don't get overtime. Thanks again!
"Great! I'll see you back here in a little bit!"
I reached the red traffic signal at the corner, stopped and bounced my forehead off the steering wheel a few times.
"I so don't get paid enough for this."
