Somebody Call The Salami Police

My boring life continues on. Working about 50 hours per week, constantly tired but raking in the dollar to fund my future travel plans. Both of my jobs (cafe during the week and pizza place four nights a week) continue with little in terms of eventfulness. However this week I managed to make (apparently) the mother of all mistakes which swiftly deteriorated to me having a meltdown and the police having to be called.

My takeaway pizza place has the oldest computer system on the planet, is an antique and runs on a floppy drive (kids, ask your parents). Thus inputting anything more complicated than a standard pizza can become very tedious and must be amended by hand. This takes time, which I don’t usually have much of on a Friday or Saturday night. One of our customers made a very complicated order which we wouldn’t usually make but he was a regular so we flexed the rules for the half vegetarian, half garlic pizza order. Unfortunately this wasn’t an option on the computer so I just make it a half vegetarian and half supreme (number 1 on the system so just the easiest option) with the intent of changing the order by hand once the order was printed. Unfortunately the order managed to be made and sent without me changing or realising that the order was very wrong. It wasn’t until the customer rang and explained that he didn’t get the right pizza and there was meat on one side that I had any idea I had messed up. I apologised for the mistake, offered to make the pizza again and send it out to them free of charge. Apparently this wasn’t enough because five minutes later he turned up in the shop with the offending pizza. He explained he was a vegetarian (for religious reasons) and then proceeded to have the mother of all tantrums which involved a lot of apologising and explaining on my part and a lot of abuse from him. He asked me to write a written explanation of what happened so he could report us to consume trading standards (I’m assuming with the intent of getting the pizza shop reprimanded, although I’m not quite sure wether this would’ve worked). As I’m not very good at confrontation I began to get upset and my boss sent me to the back out of the way. The consumer proceeded to shout and started to threaten to call the police. We had remade the pizza correctly as well as offering a full refund but to no avail. After leaving the shop he followed through with his threat and did actually call the police. The police came down and told us that they had explained several times on the phone that he needed to stop wasting police time but they wanted to come down to the shop to tell us not to worry and that he had no grounds for taking any action against a mistake made in a pizza shop. I was relieved as I had managed to delude myself into thinking this was definitely a punishable crime I had committed. And in fact, after my panic had subsided, I have managed to laugh about it.

So concludes my worst experience yet of dealing with customers and I’m pretty sure I will never forget about the time someone called the police on me because I put salami on their pizza.


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