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For those of you who don't know, I work as a pizza delivery driver for Pizza Hut in central Ohio. I've been there for about three years now, so the job has come to be a sixth sense for me. It's fairly easy, inside and outside the shop. And for the most part, nothing horrifying goes wrong to the point where I don't know if I'm getting out of a situation.

This will be one of those times. I like to call this story: "I Delivered to a Couple of Meth Heads".

Newark, Ohio for the most part isn't a terrible city. But there's a couple neighborhoods that you just don't want to find yourself in. One of those areas is on 8th Street; the houses are run down, a lot of rednecks there, and the occasional homeless person pushing around a shopping cart. I wasn't a big fan of delivering in that area, but for the most part, I didn't have many issues delivering there.

One day, I was given a delivery that was just chicken wings. I believe it was about four or five buckets of chicken wings. It came out to around $45. Sure enough, it was on 8th Street. When I looked up the address on my phone, I saw that this customer lived in a duplex; one of those duplexes where there's a business on the bottom and an apartment sitting on top. But because it's in one of those bad areas, the front windows were boarded up, there were "No Trespassing" signs everywhere, the wired gate looked rusted, and the steps looked like they wouldn't support any weight.

I drive up to the house, no issues there. I easily make my way through the gate and up the stairs to the apartment, though the whole time, I'm scared that I'm going to fall through these steps because they didn't look well put-together at all.

I knock on the door, and this guy answers. First thing I noticed was that their apartment was absolutely trashed. Papers all over the place, the coffee table covered in random knick knacks, and the couch looked old and crusty. It was not a pleasant sight. The second thing I noticed was that the guy was sitting on the ground, and his wife was sitting on the couch.

I tell them how much their order cost, and the guy says, "Well... we only have thirty dollars." I told him that if he didn't have enough to pay in cash, then they would have to call the shop and they can give them their credit card information so they can pay that way.

The wife decided to do that; she grabbed the phone and started looking for her card. While she was doing that, the dude sitting on the ground kept trying to talk to me. "Hey, I've got $30; I'll give you the cash if you give me some of the chicken wings." Of course, I'm not allowed to do that. Unless an order is paid in full, I'm not supposed to give a customer any part of their order. I try telling him this, but instead, he tries to grab the bag from my hand and tries to pull on my leg. At one point, he even tries to get me to come inside his apartment since I was letting the cold air in.

I step back, and I slowly figure out what's going on. The dude is getting angry at something reasonable, he's sitting on the ground, his place looks unkempt, and he doesn't have a lot of money. On top of that, he smelled like he hadn't showered for days. These people are motherfucking drug users!

I get scared, because the guy's getting furious. The wife is taking forever trying to find her card. She does find it somewhere buried on her coffee table, and she starts calling the shop. The only thing on my mind is "I need to get the fuck out of here." But, I couldn't just leave because there's no telling what these people will do.

When you train for this job, one thing they teach you is that if you feel that some shit is afoot, then you're supposed to call your manager and if they feel the need, they'll call 911. I didn't think I'd have enough time to do that.

The wife is taking forever trying to get ahold of the shop. The guy's still grabbing for the bag in my hand, getting more frustrated. "I have money, why won't you take it? Give me some fucking wings!" When he started cursing, I agreed to take some of his cash in exchange for two of his buckets of wings. That got him to leave me alone, which I was relieved. But now I've got cash in my hand, and the wife is going to pay for the whole meal on her credit card. I didn't really know what to do next; I didn't even think the situation was going to end.

Finally, by some graces of God, the wife gets ahold of someone and she gives them her information. Her card was charged, and the only thing that I'm thinking is, Great, now get me out of here! I give the guy the rest of his wings, and his cash back since the food is now all paid for. I gave them their receipt, told them to have a nice day, and I bolted down the steps. They didn't tip me, which sucked, but I'm just glad I didn't have to fight some dude who was clearly tripping on something.

When I got back to the shop, I told my manager everything that happened. I don't remember what they said to me, but I haven't been to that place since, so let's hope that will continue to be the case. I remember one of my managers telling me that it sounded like they were on meth, because meth users tend to get easily aggravated over the smallest things, and it would explain why they didn't have enough money for a $45 order that they placed.

I made it out in one piece, but it was still scary as hell seeing all that in person. I've never been around drugs in my life, I've always been wise enough to say no to anything that's even slightly suspicious.

That's my story. Hope you guys liked it (or not, whatever). If you did, though, let me know what you think. Have you ever encountered someone that did drugs? Let me know. Until then, I'll see you for the next entry of my life. Maybe it'll be on a lighter note. Only one way to find out. Until then, see you around.

-Toni Q. McAlister

February 24th, 2021