Once More With Pizza

November 10, 2009 at 10:07 PM | Posted in Riding In Cars With Pizza | Leave a comment
  I took the month of October "off," and worked just one job.  It was like a vacation.  But as November loomed on the horizon like a haunted pirate ship with a booty of past due bills,  I knew I would have to find work soon.  I need a second job.
  Found it.
  The Big L had a line on this job for me back in March, I think.  I talked to him recently and he said that he could hook me up.  He did.  Last Friday was my first day at my new job.  I needed something that–well, here were my requirements:
  Night job, because I work during the day
  But not too late, because I work in the morning
  Good money, because I need it
  Easy work, because I’m basically lazy
  Something in Pizza, because I need to reinforce my street cred
  Something with hot chicks, because I’m a shallow pervert.

  Well, that about covers it.  I started working at Imo’s (pronounced like EMO) Pizza, which is a big local chain.  The St Louis Style of pizza is a thin crust, due largely to Imo’s.  Other than the hot chicks, this pretty much covers all the bases.  Maybe that part will come later.  Haha. Come later.  Haha.  I kill me.
  Despite being a chain, the place is laid back as hell.  It’s a local chain.  There are maybe 40 or 50 units in the St Louis metro.  Maybe more.  Maybe I’ll look it up if I give a shit and think about it later.
  Great–there’s a Wikipedia entry for Imo’s Pizza.  The links are interesting, especially about St Louis, New York, and Chicago-style pizzas.
But here’s the rundown:

  People who have never worked in a kitchen before are sometimes offended by how dirty they are.  Listen, your food hardly ever touches the floor, so why worry aobut it?  Same for the walls.  The tables are clean, and the walkin is cold.  That’s all that really matters.  The oven isn’t so clean but it is 500 degrees, and that kills most offensive things. 
  There are two different groups of people in the store:  the drivers, and…the other people.  The other people answer the phones, take orders, make the orders, serve to customers, and clean the store.  The drivers?  Well, the drivers just drive.
  The drivers are not paid by the hour.  I guess you could say I am a private contractor.  Whatever, dude.  This is what we get:  We start the night with 20 bucks as a bank, but we get to keep that, so that is pretty nice.  We also get tips.  The tips and the bank we get in cash every night, which is cool if you’re into that sort of thing.
  Then we also get paid per delivery.  There is a 2.50 delivery charge, and the driver gets all of it.  This goes onto a check which we get every week.
  The store is in a  neighborhood that is not so great, and I know it well.  I’ve managed the various Domino’s that cover this area at one time or another if not multiple times.  This part of town is either Spanish Lake or Black Jack.  Regardless, it is unincorporated St Louis County.  People live here think they live in Florissant, but they really, really don’t.  It’s more pathetic than people on the outskirts of Beverly Hills trying to claim a 90210 zip code.  More pathetic, because this is just a because this is just a North St Louis County suburb they are trying to latch onto.
  I need to recalculate what my nut is, because before I had the home loan it was 200 bucks per week on the second job.  Chances are good that I’m going to have to get another one if this stays as just Friday and Saturday.  But I do feel better, at least, for having gone right out and gotten the second job like I planned.  But I’ll take a third one.
  I can’t believe how oddly satisfying it is to be delivering again.

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