I just got off the phone with Papa John's Pizza. I ordered two pizzas to be delivered to my home. The last thing the phone operator said to me was "you must meet the delivery person downstairs"...to which I agreed. I live on the fifth floor of a walk up and most delivery people don't want to
be bothered with the steps.Maybe 20 minutes passed when I heard him ringing my bell. I told him I'd be right down stairs and I buzzed him in.
Then I proceeded to put on a shirt, some sneakers and I grabbbed some money from my husband....I grabbed my mailbox keys to check today's mail...opened my door......
And proceeded to scream like someone was KILLING me!!! (Ala Friday The 13th or Halloween).......
When I opened the door that damn pizza guy was standing at my door with the pizza's in his hand....at the sound of my scream....homeboy began to laugh out loud.
He was a cute lil hispanic guy and I threatened his very life if he went back to Papa John's and told them what just happened. Even as I laughed at myself I felt like a total fool.
He took my money and laughed all the way back downstairs....and the funny part?
Not a damn soul even came outside of their doors to see what I was screaming about.
Neighbors....lol...you gotta love 'em.
A bad neighbor is a misfortune, as much as a good one is a great blessing"
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