Angry Customers pt.1

Nothing tickles me more than sincere anger. Showing up at a patrons home an hour late is always a treat. Sometimes I am disappointed to find a laid back, tip-wielding mother of four, grateful to have the food, understanding of what I must have gone through to deliver her goods. However, more often I find the disgruntled, mumbler type who spouts his/her grievances. These cowardly types are all the same. "How much of a discount do I get for it being an hour late"--"I'm never ordering from here again"--"Took Long enough"-- I can't help but to have a blatant smile spread wide across my face at the flustered tones and dim witted criticisms. I have developed a standard reply to such encounters. I begin by letting the patron spew what they may. Then I begin staring at their eyeballs. (in my estimation the expected social decorum for the driver at this point is to apologize for the inconvenience and, perhaps, blame it on some scapegoat back at pizza headquarters, i choose neither of these options)-- I, in earnest response, ask them if I can take the pizzas back to the store, and report to my manager that you were dissatisfied with your service. Of course they will never choose this option, they've been waiting for their pizzas for an hour, they're starving. I, however, care not whether they opt for it or not: A) i'm not getting a tip, so I'm in this encounter for the jollies B) if they send it back i get to eat it, and we'll be greeted as a hero by my fellow workers for providing a snack for all. This approach usually throws the patron off his spiel. The balls in my court now. Now he/she is like, "No, please don't take it back, I'm starving."
The other method I exercise is the detailed excuse. In this method I methodically, and with intentionally painstaking, and unnecessary detail, account to the patron detail by detail as to what I have been busying my self with for the past hour. It goes something like this: Ma'am/Sir, It all started when Turk, he's a delivery driver like me--I call him Turk on account of the show Scrubs-- locked up the computer back at the store. So, you see, I had to wait 5 minutes to log out your order. Then, well, since we're shorthanded tonight because of this girl Brandy--she's a delivery driver like me-- called in at the last minute-- apparently, she had a falling out with her boyfriend over him watching her kids while she was at Beauty school during the day. Anyway, so In front of your pizza's I had two others, on opposite ends of town. The first delivery went to some migrant workers at the Royal Inn. It took longer than usual there because we had to get someone from two rooms down who spoke a garbled mixture of Spanglish to come translate the total to them--that took 28 minutes. Then, my next delivery went to an apartment complex, only the girl back at the store Candy, she couldn't hear the lady well on the phone--when she was ordering (because our phones at the store are so archaic) so she entered down the wrong apartment number. So, after knocking on the wrong door, I had to call the cell phone number on the ticket and talk to the lady, find out the right number, then deliver her the pie-- that took 25 minutes. So, you see ma'am/sir, all this, plus driving time, led me to your door later than you expected. By then they'll do anything to get me to leave.