It was incredibly busy at work today. Everyone said that it would “die off after Thanksgiving”, but it’s been busier than ever.
This morning we got a phone call from the 717. I was excited to connect with someone from my home turf.
“You sound chipper this morning, Nicolette,” the man on the phone said.
“Well, it’s sunday morning at a coffee shop, I’ve got to be in a good mood,” I replied.
“Oh, well I’ve got this fetish for women in pantyhose,” the man informed me. “After women wear them around, and they get that smell.”
“Is this a pervert call?” I asked. “Because if this is a pervert call, I have your number on the caller ID, and if you call back, I will have to report you to the police.” Then I hung up.
I’d never gotten a pervert call before.
Once, when I was working at Metro Express in Lancaster, some kid called and asked for “a pepperoni pizza with jizz on top.” We dialed *69, got their number and plugged it into our database, which had their address. We made them a pepperoni pizza and put something gross on top like Italian Dressing, trying to approximate the look of the order, and then delivered the pizza to the house. The kids’ dad answered the door, didn’t seem surprised at the nature of the order, paid the driver (and included a nice tip) and then yelled his kids’ names while closing the front door.
Justice served up hot, with jizz on it.
(but seriously, it was just dressing)
I make the best smoothies. I really do. It all started at the age of ten when I learned how to make an orange julius. Now, I mix up all sorts of delectable drinks. Usually they involve some sort of variation on the equation frozen berries+bananas+juice=yum. But recently I’ve begun adding coconut milk and honey. This shit is off the chain. My favorite dessert smoothie is bananas, ice, milk, and peanut butter. Oh man.