The Pizza Chronicles: Training Days

Updated: Nov 25, 2020

I got a job!

Fourth year of med school is just that amazing. When I was in college the most money I made was when I did pizza delivery for a month to burn up some extra miles on leased car. Back then I was averaging about 20/hour. Now I find myself with this plethora of extra time on my hands, I thought hey I’ll deliver pizzas again, and I’ll do it on the scooter. My dad brought up a solid point the other day when discussing this with him. He tends to think I’m doing this more for the intellectual challenge of trying to figure out how to deliver 10 pizzas on a scooter rather than the money, which may have some truth.

The other week I went into a local pizza joint and filled out an application. When I was filling in the previous employment box it occurred to me just how foreign of a world I was about to enter. Considering I haven’t had an actual job in about 5 years, it was nearly impossible to put anything down. I think the one thing that stood out was the miniscule fact that exactly eight years ago I delivered pizza for about a month. Lets not mention the fact that I needed about two more lines for educational history, but the fact that I’m going to be a doctor in a short matter of months has very little bearing on my ability to drive a pie.

So my first two shifts are “training shifts”. On the first day I was suddenly thrown back to being 16 years old again and being forced to sit in the corner and read the overly extensive training manual about how stealing is wrong, and the work place is a drug free environment. Minutes after intensely reading the manual I worried that there may actually be a quiz. I was then shown around the place, in the back room I met the rest of the drivers, they were all getting high, I then knew there would be no quiz.

The idea of a training shift was to follow around one of the other drivers and outside of driving a car and finding an address I was to learn how to do exciting things like fold pizza boxes, make pasta, and learn how to count money. All the guys that worked there are from the same ho dunk town including the manager, and if you have ever seen the movie “waiting” you don’t have to use your imagination to think of the shenanigans that go on. For example today I learned how to take a simple rag and fold it perfectly so it looks like a giant penis that can even form an erection, then folding it another half fold to make a rather anatomically perfect vagina. Such skill! I also learned today that the biggest bad ass biker gang in New Orleans are the “Vietnam Vets”, despite the name anyone can join them, young and old. They hang out at a bar called the Tavern. I know this because one of the guys in the kitchen frequents this place (the bartender there is who taught him the folding rag penis-vagina trick). I learned that if you're young, have a Harley and hang out at this bar you will be recruited into the MC (motorcycle club) upon which you will be labeled as a “prospect” for a period of about one year. During this year to fulfill your membership you will have to either stab someone or rob someone at gun point. I Also learned that any biker you see with a 1% sign surrounded by a diamond on there leather vest it means they have murdered someone signifying they are part of the elite 1% of bikers that have killed someone. Things they just don't teach you in med school.

After two training shifts I learned that most of the people that work their either went to community college or had dropped out. For two days I did my best not to reveal that I went to Tulane, let alone med school. I decided that I’m having a really good time trying to blend in to this environment which can essentially be labeled as the service industry. The contrast between the halls of a hospital and the back halls of a pizza joint could not be more opposite.

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