What up, Brett? That's your name because otherwise I have to call you "Lost Pizza Guy #25" and you look like you deserve a name.
So, what up?
What makes you think you can walk into my library carrying a pizza and not having a clue who it's for?
That's pretty fucked up, Brett.
I mean, sure, you said it was for Andy. Andy ordered a pizza, you got the order, brought it fresh and hot to the library. You did your job and that's pretty cool of you, Brett. Most people do the bare minimum to get by and you are rising to just above that. Who the fuck is Andy to you, am I right?
Well, guess what? I know less of a shit about Andy than you do. You have his last name, his address, his credit card information, his phone number, and whatever else it takes to get someone to cook food and have it brought to you. Andy is known to you in ways his mother and lovers will never know him.
I know Andy is a hungry dickhead who had a pizza brought to a library. I also know that he likes a lot of onions because get that fucking thing off my circulation desk, Brett.
Sorry. I guess I'm a little hangry. You know I'm a little hangry because I'm using a bullshit term like hangry. I'm not even that hungry, I'm just like a Pavlov dog with pizza and you're a goddamn master of that, huh, Brett? Are you here just to make me and the other people of the library squirm and want our own pizza? There's four fucking floors to this library, Brett, and are you going to carry that thing floor by floor looking for the guy that ordered it? Is there even an Andy, Brett, or are you just here to mock us? What makes you so special you can't disappear in a library, Brett?
Whoa, shit. I am super sorry. Maybe give Andy a call. Get his ass down here. We'll all have a chat.