Late Delivery – By Nicholas Conley
Flash Fiction / May 9, 2010

I take the pizza box out of the bag. I hand it to Man #3. He opens up the box. He looks at me suspiciously. He ordered pepperoni and pineapple and if it isn’t just how he likes it, he’ll blame me. I know the type. Man #3 seems satisfied. I smile. I even got the pizza to him early this time. He digs into his pockets. “How much is it, again?” he asks. “13 bucks,” I reply. He takes out $15 and puts it in my hand. “Keep the change.” He walks inside. I go back to my car. $2 tip, not too bad. I look at my next delivery. It’s at 433 Banner Street, which I’ve never heard of. Great. I take out my map. There’s no Banner Street in town. The waitress must have messed up the order again. I sigh. She always does this. The pizza’s getting cold. I call the recipient’s number. “Hello?” woman #2 answers. “Hey, this is Sheriff’s Pizza Rodeo,” I talk quickly, “We can’t seem to find your address. 433 Banner Street, is it?” “Um, no,” she says in a tone that implies I’m an idiot for thinking it. “What is it,…