My service wasn't bad. It's seldom bad. I don't often have to answer this question.
Because the fucking town is just too big. God, and my drivers are morons.
My driver was so fat, he had an asthma attack and couldn't deliver.
Because I was busy making a $9000 order. You want service, or you want money?
I'm making so much cash, I think I'll stay here.
This is my comfort zone. I think I'll stay here.
Something better. Something different.
74 or 75. God, this place is stressful. Did I mention my drivers are morons?
74 or 75. I got plenty of time on my hands.
Just a couple. But I have plenty of money to buy them because I make $10,000 bonuses!
Just a couple. Trying to quit for my health.
None. I'm a real easy guy to get along with.
A couple. But they really needed to be in a different job. And I don't think it was really me that scared them.
74 or 75. God, this job is stressful. Did I mention my drivers are morons?
I don't keep track. Got my eyes on the prize.
Flecked with gold and rainbows and smelling of cinnamon rolls.
It was a shit. What do you want to know?
I haven't shit in seven years. Just too fucking much stress in this job.
Slow and easy, but I may have broken the toilet seat.
Beer with my drivers, all of whom are my best friends.
Beer with a good friend or two over dinner. Those guys are hilarious.
Goldschlager with people I want to impress.
Vodka with a tequila back. Alone. Because my job is so stressful.