ORDERING PIZZA

Dialing a phone number.
“ThankyouforcallingINSERTPIZZAPLACEHEREcanihelpyou?” says a young valley girl accent rapid fire.
“Uh yeah,” I reply tired from the heat of this summer and an A/C unit that died, “I’d like to order a pizza, my son works for you, his name is Andrew, I’m his mother, and he’s one of your delivery dudes.”
“Yeswehaveandrewworkinghere,” she replies.
“I know,” I laugh, “he’s my son.”
I wait a beat and don’t hear anything.
“Uh, you still there?” I ask.
“Yes,” she replies as I hear gum smacking.
“Well, I would like a medium Sausage and Green Pepper Pizza, thin Crust,” I reply.
“That’llbeamediumthincrustCheeseandSausageandGreenPepperPizza????”
“Well,” I interject very slowly, “don’t ALL your Pizza’s come with Cheese?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ll take one of those,” I state as I swipe the sweat across my brow as I stand directly in front of one of two fan’s that everyone is claiming as MINE MINE MINE, or IT’S YOUR FAULT THE AIR CONDITIONER BROKE.
(yes, I wait until the middle of the summer during a heat wave and put the kibosh on an central air conditioner unit. I mean, why do this in the middle of winter??!!??)
She repeats the order again very quickly then says, “Canyouholdonforasecond?” before waiting for my response.
I mean, what if I couldn’t hold on, or wouldn’t hold on? Then what?
She came back on the line, “OK, you can get Andrew’s discount.”
“OH GOODIE!!!” I laugh.
“Buthecan’tdeliveritrightawayashe’sout onarun.”
“That’s OK.”
“CanIhaveyouraddress?” she asks.
“What?”
“Can I have your address?”
I laugh loudly now. “Well, sheesh, Andrew KNOWS where I live!!!”
“Oh yeah,” she says. “that’s right. So what name should I put this under?”
“Uhhhhh….MOM?”