all good things

I had a rather annoying delivery tonight. It started off well, it was to a street I knew, in a town that was close by and there were actual house numbers that were easily visible at night. The trouble started when the owner, an attractive middle-aged woman, answered the door while talking on the phone. I always hate it when customers are talking on the phone, they make you feel like you are rude git who dared interrupt them while they are having an extremely important conversation. This lady was no different, she glared at me, shoved $50 at me, and then continued talking to her friend about how great her boyfriend is. Sometime during our exchange of goods I must have made my presence noticed by the woman (I know it is wrong of me to assume that it was a woman, but honestly, only 2 women can successfully carry on a conversation about current boyfriends and penis lengths while one of them is distracted by a very inconsiderate delivery driver) on the other end of the phone. The reply made by the lady I was doing business with was “Don’t worry about that, it is JUST the pizza boy”. Just the pizza boy?? Now hang on a second, last time I checked you were the one who asked for me to come here, you were the one who was too lazy to get your own damn pizza, and you were the one too rude to put the phone down for 30 seconds and treat me like a human being. You have no right to think that you are better than I am.
Just a pizza boy, what a load of crock. For starters, I am not just a pizza boy, I am a damn good pizza boy. Secondly my whole life doesn’t revolve around delivering pizzas. These people must think that I jump out of bed each morning, eager to deliver pizzas, and sleep soundly each night secure in the thought that I had done a good job. The truth is, I stumble out of bed, take a good, hard look in the mirror and try to pinpoint exactly where my life sunk so low that I had to resort to being ridiculed and insulted for a measly wage, then I spend the rest of my time wondering exactly how much trouble I would get into if I bludgeoned someone to death with a pizza crust.
Look, I am not asking for much, all I want is for people to realise that just because I deliver pizzas for a living that it doesn’t mean that is all I want to do and all that I am. A person’s job is not their identity, I have hopes and dreams, I have a complex personality that has nothing to do with pizza, and I have a desire to spend the rest of my life doing something that has nothing to do with pizza. Simply put, saying that someone is just the pizza boy is like saying Albert Einstein just worked in a patent office, Nikolas Tesla was just a glorified electrician, and Michael Jackson is just a creepy man. It doesn’t begin to do them justice, it just shows what they are on the surface and doesn’t tap the deep (and in Michaels case, depraved) well that is their true nature.
Just a pizza boy. Ridiculous. New rule, whenever someone refers to me to a third person as ‘just the pizza boy’ they forfeit all rights to their change, after all it is just money.
All good things must come to an end…. they are just good things after all.