Pizza Boy

If you read my “About” page, you found out that I’ve had a lot of jobs over the years. My professional career had more ups and downs than the stock market. Which is part of the reason I’ve chosen to be a writer after retirement. I don’t think there’s anything else I can do. Or want to do, for that matter.

But all those jobs make good fodder for writing. So, this blog post will start a series where I discuss each job, what it entailed, and any interesting (or off-the-wall) things that happened to me while I worked that job. I’ll start in chronological order, beginning with...

Pizza Delivery

Back in the early 80s, there was a small pizza delivery place in Germantown, Ohio called Jocko’s Pizza. For the record, there was no one in Germantown named Jocko, so I don’t know where they came up with the name. I think there was an unpopular cartoon character years ago named “Jocko Gorilla.” The cartoon eventually died out, along with the character. Jocko actually sounds more like a biker’s name, and there were plenty of those guys in Germantown in the 80s.

In fact, there was a pizza place there in Germantown called Don’s Pizza Palace (it’s still in operation, so I have to be careful and not get myself in a libel suit). Jocko’s is NOT in operation. That establishment went the way of the cartoon. And the gorilla.

Back to Don’s Pizza Palace. So, in the 80s, the owner of that restaurant was a guy named Jim. I didn’t know him, and I never met him, but it was rumored he was a biker with a wooden leg. I’m not sure that’s even true. I’m even more in doubt that the leg was wooden. I’m more likely to believe spare motorcycle parts. I do know that he drove around town in a big motorhome. I remember it looked a lot like the one Walter White drove in Breaking Bad. I’m not insinuating anything here. I’ll leave it to you to connect the dots.

It's worth saying that Jim, owner of said Pizza Palace, named after some guy named Don, had a couple nicknames bestowed on him by the youth of Germantown, of which I was a part of. The first one was “Pizza Jim.” The second, was “Peg-leg Jim.” Not very politically correct these days, but remember, this was the 80s, and the guy was a biker. The latter nickname was something us crazy kids kept amongst ourselves, and only said it when we were sure no adults could hear. Saying that name out loud in a crowd got you stares, funny looks, and obvious nervous reactions. Like they were afraid Jim was hiding around the corner within earshot. I just think Jim had somewhat of a reputation, and was someone not to be trifled with or ridiculed.

It's also worth saying that the people who now own and operate Jim’s Pizza Palace in Germantown, Ohio, from what I understand, are all fine, upstanding people, who only deal food, or have deals on food, rather (that was a very poor attempt at CYA, and if you don’t know what CYA stands for, Google is your friend).

Back to my experience working for Jocko’s Pizza as a Pizza Boy. That’s right... Pizza Boy. That’s what the customer’s called us. Never “Pizza Guy,” or “Pizza Man.” It was always just “Pizza Boy.” I mean, we were all kids who barely had driver’s licenses, so it made sense. Still, when it’s your first job, and you’re feeling all grown up and stuff, the last thing you want to be called is “boy.”

From what I can remember, we didn’t have too many rules while delivering pizzas, subs, and steak sandwiches. That was the menu. Pretty simple (again, it was the 80s). Be nice to the customers, make correct change, and don’t run out of gas in the delivery vehicle. I had the first two down, but I ran out of gas twice. Embarrassing to say the least. Each time, I’d have to walk back to the customer’s house and call Jocko’s, hoping one of my co-worker buddies would answer so he could pick me up on the downlow. No such luck. Each time, the manager answered and I was hosed. I did get picked up, but it was long after I received a severe tongue lashing from said manager, and “Pizza Boy” was not the only name he called me.

I also remember being offered lots of stuff for tips instead of cash, which was weird, because the stuff they offered me cost more than any tip they would have given. Things like beer, shots of whiskey, and weed. I did not accept their generous gratuities. Which, now that I think about it, I must have been the oddball, because all my co-worker buddies were pretty much high the entire time they worked.

All of the above is my best recollection of the time I worked for Jocko’s Pizza. Once again, it was the 80s, and if you went to high school back in the 80s, you know exactly what I’m talking about.