My fingers pause on the keyboard, and I look up from my spot in the armchairs that surround the TV. Everybody is looking around curiously, accusingly even. Frowning, I glance around the room, and my blood runs cold when I see a pizza delivery guy standing in the enormous waiting room shouting something to the thirty-five-odd people here today. With trembling hands, I pop out my earbuds and hear clear as day, “Mercedes Lee Loveletter, I have two large pizzas, parmesan breadsticks, and a pound of boneless chicken wings. With…” He pauses to look at the receipt. “Three dipping sauces.” Why is he
My fingers pause on the keyboard, and I look up from my spot in the armchairs that surround the TV. Everybody is looking around curiously, accusingly even. Frowning, I glance around the room, and my blood runs cold when I see a pizza delivery guy standing in the enormous waiting room shouting something to the thirty-five-odd people here today. With trembling hands, I pop out my earbuds and hear clear as day, “Mercedes Lee Loveletter, I have two large pizzas, parmesan breadsticks, and a pound of boneless chicken wings. With…” He pauses to look at the receipt. “Three dipping sauces.” Why is he bellowing the delivery receipt out loud? Is that a thing? I don’t think that’s a thing. He adds, “Claim it now, or it’s going in the trash.” My inner frugal girl roars to life, and my face turns red fucking hot as I croak, “I’m Mercedes.” The eighteen-year-old with greasy hair and acne scars looks at me with dead eyes. “I’ve been calling your name for like five minutes.” Is he seriously scolding me in front of all these people? And OMG…five minutes? “Well, I didn’t order the pizza,” I defend, shifting uncomfortably and closing my laptop as everyone’s eyes are pinned to mine like I’m about to start a fucking flash mob or something. “Do you know who it’s from?” “No,” the boy states and moves toward me while pulling out enough food to feed ten people. “This is a prank.” I laugh nervously and slide my laptop alongside me. His dead eyes meet mine again. “I could never eat all this.” “I…don’...
...more
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
Okay...THIS is nearly 100% true. My author friend, Jana Aston was so tickled by my writing in a tire shop waiting room that she did some research, figured out where I was and had an OBSCENE amount of food sent to me in the waiting room. I was so mad because I was certain I would get busted after this, but still, the tire shop guys said nothing! I've since paid Jana back. :)
