Let’s Apply For A Job At Dominos!
In these times of economic uncertainty, it pays to have a backup plan. Now you may think that delivering pizzas for Dominos part-time is a shitty backup plan, and you’d be right, but it beats the alternative: Being homeless. Actually, it probably doesn’t. At least when you’re homeless no one is around to hassle you or tell you what parts of your body you can or can’t stick into pizza boxes. But, hey, it provides health insurance, right? What? It doesn’t? Ok fuck this, I’m not going to try very hard to get this job…
(Note, I really did apply for a job at Dominos, and this is my application, minus all the boring multiple choice questions.)
Name – Greg “Kenny” Loggins
How did you hear about us? – I was at a friend’s house and we ordered some pizza. When I saw the delivery guy walk up to the door with our pizza, I thought to myself, “Hey! I could fucking deliver this shit too, and I bet I wouldn’t look like such a fucking tool doing it!”
Have you ever been convicted of a felony? – Look, I may as well get this out of the way right now: I commit a lot of crimes. Fucking shit-tons of them. One time I broke into an old lady’s house, super-glued her dentures into her dog’s mouth, and made them both act out the H.M.S. Pinafore to my satisfaction before I let her have her pills. (I might have been high when I did that.)
And one time I burned down a nunnery. Or maybe I just dreamt that. Anyway, the point is, I can’t help but break the law. I steal money pretty much whenever I get the chance, I tend to beat people I disagree with, and if muling several pounds of heroin over an international border is a crime, then God help me, I’m guilty of that too.
But I’m willing to change.
Have you ever been convicted for a DUI? – Yes.
Explain – I was fucking wasted and got caught trying to drive backwards to Waffle House while a buddy of mine was getting a blowjob in the trunk. Still, totally worth it. That shit is hilarious.
Do you have a valid driver’s license? – No.
Explain – I don’t have a valid driver’s license for me, but I have some for other people. A bunch of them. Let’s see, I can pretend to be Carlos Mendez, Chad Van Oorman, or even Casey Anthony, although the last time I gave a cop that driver’s license, he searched the van and found all those illegal immigrants, so I try not to use that one any more.
Are you a US Citizen? – No
Dominos provides a drug-free workplace. Are you willing to submit to drug testing? – No
Explain – I’ll submit to testing, now that I think about it. Apropos of nothing, do you test to make sure the urine provided is from a human, and not, say, a yak?
Other – Delivering pizzas isn’t that fucking hard. We both know that. That’s why very few Dominos pizza delivery drivers have won the Nobel Prize. So instead of cooking up a bunch of bullshit about how my life’s goal is to bring a bunch of assholes some shitty pizza with the texture and taste of cardboard, let’s talk about my real dream: to form an all-albino Limp Bizkit tribute band and tour assisted living facilities across the American Southwest.
Wait, that’s fucking crazy. Disregard that. My real dream is to punch Gavin MacLeod in the taint. You know who Gavin MacLeod is, don’t you? He was Captain Steubing on the Love Boat, and if anyone deserves to be punched in the taint, it’s him. That fucker. He’s been sneaking into my house at night and drinking all of my beer. Really. Here’s how I know:
I come home from a long day of huffing paint behind the local Home Depot, and try to wind down with a case or two of Coors Light that I lift from a local convenience store because I know this guy Duane, who uses them to prop open the back door because the stock room is “stuffy”. So I pull up, load up the cases when no one is looking, and Duane pretends it didn’t happen. In return, I don’t say anything when Duane does shit to my sister on the weekends. (It’s cool, though, she’s of age and everything. She’s just in a coma, is all.)
So I get home, wiped from another hard day, and I have fifteen or twenty beers, and the next thing I know it’s morning, and all my fucking beer is gone! So it’s got to be Gavin MacLeod, because who else could it be, right? And that dick-weed doesn’t even bother to throw out the empties! He walks down the block and whips them into my ex-girlfriend’s yard. What a dick.
Anyway, I thought it would be cool if I came up with a catch-phrase I could use when I delivered a pizza for you pricks. You know, something catchy so people would know exactly what was going on when they heard me say it in the future. I’ve narrowed it down to these three. Let me know which of them works for you.
- Pizza, motherfuckers!
- I got crabs, and I got pizza! Who wants what?
- Tip big or I starting cutting people.
Oh, one last thing… The foreclosed house I broke into is going to be sold soon, so I was wondering if I could maybe sleep in the store when it’s closed. I won’t have many people over, and I promise I won’t deal any needle drugs out of there. What do you think?