So there was this apartment building I delivered to, no numbers. I knocked on one door where I could see this woman walking around in the kitchen. I think it was the most offensive thing that had happened to her since it turned 08. Good God did she chew me out. I apologize, why don't you put some fucking numbers on the door? For rice cakes. I didn't know the pizza man knocking on the wrong door was tantamount to a telemarketer times 8, since its in person.
People. I tell ya.
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