Ting a lingle ling. Jingle, jingle. It was an unfamiliar number from an area code in Philly. I decided to answer anyway.
"Psychic Pizza," I said. "The pizza you are calling to order has been on your doorstep for less than a minute. Go get it before it gets cold.
"Huh? I didn't order no pizza!"
"Someone in your house wanted one and they're getting ready to order it about now. It's already on your doorstep. Better go take in inside before it gets cold," I replied.
A few seconds later. "There ain''t no pizza on my doorstep."
Me: "Dammit! Must be that new driver. He put it on the wrong doorstep. Don't worry. I'll put the money back on your credit card. Have a good day." I hung up.
Six seconds later. Phone rings. "Psychic pizza," I answered. "I told you I'm putting the money back on your credit card." Click. I hung up again.
Then I shut my phone off and went in and took a nice nap.
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