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Since at the moment, I'm on a week's holiday and am free of SCs for that time, I will share a tale of yore instead. XD This comes from back when I worked at the pizza place. It was a fairly tedious evening, without that many calls, when this little doozy popped up. O.o
L = me.
PSC = pervert SC.
M = Manager, sucky on a lot of occasions but thankfully not on this one.
Actions are in brackets, italics are my thoughts.
(phone rings)
L: (picks up phone before it rings three times, as told to) Hello, this is Pizza Place, my name is Lace, how may I help you?
PSC: (breathes heavily before speaking) (husky, suggestive sounding male voice) I'd like a pizza.
L: How the hell does he manage to make asking for pizza sound so sexual?! O_o OK, and what would you like?
PSC: (makes order in same voice)
L: OK, that'll be *price here* and thirty minutes.
PSC: (after paying with credit card) Can I have a ... female driver, please? A sexy one.
L: What. The. Frick? O.o Your pizza will be thirty minutes. Bye! (hangs up)
(Manager notices the shellshocked look on my face, walks over)
M: Anything wrong, Lace?
L: This customer was talking in a really creepy way, and get this; he asked us to send over a sexy female driver to deliver his pizza.
M: OK, don't worry; I know just the person.
The manager then proceeded to call over our biggest, toughest, most tattooed and butchest male driver and give him the order.
I would have loved to have seen the PSC's face when he opened the door. XD Funny, we never heard from the perv again.
L = me.
PSC = pervert SC.
M = Manager, sucky on a lot of occasions but thankfully not on this one.
Actions are in brackets, italics are my thoughts.
(phone rings)
L: (picks up phone before it rings three times, as told to) Hello, this is Pizza Place, my name is Lace, how may I help you?
PSC: (breathes heavily before speaking) (husky, suggestive sounding male voice) I'd like a pizza.
L: How the hell does he manage to make asking for pizza sound so sexual?! O_o OK, and what would you like?
PSC: (makes order in same voice)
L: OK, that'll be *price here* and thirty minutes.
PSC: (after paying with credit card) Can I have a ... female driver, please? A sexy one.
L: What. The. Frick? O.o Your pizza will be thirty minutes. Bye! (hangs up)
(Manager notices the shellshocked look on my face, walks over)
M: Anything wrong, Lace?
L: This customer was talking in a really creepy way, and get this; he asked us to send over a sexy female driver to deliver his pizza.
M: OK, don't worry; I know just the person.
The manager then proceeded to call over our biggest, toughest, most tattooed and butchest male driver and give him the order.
I would have loved to have seen the PSC's face when he opened the door. XD Funny, we never heard from the perv again.
Even better, if he'd agreed to go in drag.
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