There was a delightful bit of delivery driving justice that got doled out yesterday. The joyous moment occurred when an apartment dwelling ne'er-do-well internet ordered for delivery four minutes before we closed. That's not necessarily that egregious of an assault, although it does make me question the kindness and thoughtfulness of the individual ordering. You see, when you internet order there's a reminder that continually pops up that essentially counts down the amount of time the customer has left to order before we close. That means the customer saw the store timer dipping down into the low single digits and yet still deemed that curing their severe case of the munchies was far more important than the lives of the individuals that crave nothing more than to make it home before the sun starts to rise. What made matters more frustrating was that what had to have been the 19 year-old customer called back after his food was made because he messed up his own order and wanted to change some of the items that were already made. The process went less than smoothly thanks to the kid sounding like Daniel Tosh, that is, if Tosh had been used as batting practice for the better part of a decade by a juiced up Mark McGwire.  

Anyway, my boss and I are quality, company first employees, so we made and remade the order with only a modicum of bitching along the way. When I arrived at the apartment complex about 15 minutes later I realized that their complex had already locked its electronically sealed gate. That meant that there was effectively no way to get inside. And considering it was after 1 AM there wouldn't be anybody going in and out for me to be able to sneak behind either. That meant I had to call the customer and ask him to meet me at the gate. A small win for me, considering it forced the lethargic and probably semi-stoned customer to exert a bit of unwanted effort without me having to do anything untoward. 

The young adult eventually made his way to the walk-in gate, swung it open and then sauntered on over towards me. That's when he suddenly stopped and reached back for the gate only to hear a rather violent thud and a snap. The gate had locked behind him. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. I didn't waste a single moment in getting the transaction over with. I just told him the bill and handed the kid the pizza. He proceeded to dejectedly pay me, take the pizzas and then walk back to the gate and stare at it quizzically. 

I walked back to my car, got in and watched in utter amusement as the kid, who had no sympathy for the people working until the wee morning hours, struggled to find a way in. Judging by his confounded look, it quickly became clear he didn't have his phone or his keys on him. He was completely stuck. By the time I decided to pull away the kid had shoved the pizza under the gap at the base of the gate and was unsuccessfully attempting to scale the complex's spiked fence. The spiked fence looked like it should have come with a complimentary murder hole above it just to complete the architectural Game of Thrones-esque theme. I imagine he eventually made it over the fence, or impaled himself (God willing). Even if he was unable to accomplish either feat, he had a pizza to keep him warm and satiated until someone with a key meandered on by. Who knows, maybe he could even use his solitude to ruminate on his decision to ruin the nights of several other hardworking people, or at the very least he could take the time to appreciate the majesty of karma and the bitch of a punishment that it routinely hands out.