Delivering Pizza in New Orleans

Date: 11/7/2020

I was in New Orleans working for a pizza place. I answered the phone and took an order. When it was ready, it was given to me to deliver. Taking it, I felt pressed for time. The address was somewhere around the French Quarter, but I couldn't find it and neither could my GPS. I asked a random passerby who knew the person who ordered the pizza. He said he would go get him, disappeared into a side street, then returned with the guy. The person who ordered was jovial and fat with a manbun. I apologized for the delay and told him I would call the shop to have it remade, but gave him the pizza to check out first. He opened it up and said it looked okay except he had a deal that was supposed to come with four cheese bread strips, four pizza slices and a drink. But he only had three of each and no drink. So I called the shop and spoke to a girl who told me that, by law, all restaurant ovens and grills had to close at 730. (It was 8pm when I looked at a clock.) I asked to speak to a manager about giving the guy a handwritten coupon and was put on hold. I held for thirty minutes. In that time, the customer took the pizza and disappeared down the same side street from which he came. After giving up on my held call, I went down the side street, myself, and found the guy in a dark, covered area, playing video games on a small landing. I explained the predicament and told him I would follow up the next day. He was very nice and cool about it.