Revenge of the Noids

When opportunity knocks, will you answer?

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and I was returning to the Quad Cities while talking on the phone to my brother. I passed the neighborhood strip club, and ended the conversation as I pulled into the parking lot outside my apartment. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary - just the crappy cars and trashy neighbors to which I’d become accustomed. I unhooked the iPod and gathered my bags, preparing to exit the vehicle. I walked over to the dumpster to deposit my empty can of Mt. Dew, but something tugged at my nostrils. I followed the odor, and lying in the middle of the parking lot was a Domino’s Heat Wave ® bag.

I stared with disbelief, sizing up the situation. Even from a distance it was obvious that the bag contained pizza. I had just driven over this spot a moment ago, and I was certain there was no bag. Was I about to be Punk’d, laughed at by millions of American? No Ashton to be seen, so I decided this didn’t seem likely. Perhaps was this a terrorist attack. Was it really a dirty bomb, set by Al-Qaeda to get back at capitalist America? Doubtful, since Bin Laden’s cave was nicer than my apartment complex. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Like the Siren’s song, the intoxicating aroma of hot pizza drew me near.

 

Logic kicked in and I pieced together the series of events that must have transpired. As I entered the lot, distracted, a delivery guy placed the pizzas on the top of his car and drove away. Given the placement of the hot bag, and my extensive knowledge of physics, I deduced that given the sharpness of the curve and Newton’s First Law of Motion, that pizza bag in my parking lot was a pure accident, and I was the fortunate bystander.

I was faced with an ethical dilemma. Should I keep found pizza? Better yet, should I eat found pizza? I quickly scanned the parking lot and grabbed the Dominos bag.  I called my brother back to tell him what fate had delivered to my doorstep.  As I walked into my apartment, the scent of fresh, hot pizza filled the room. Had I been hungrier, or not already had dinner plans, this story would end right here with me stuffing my pie hole with pizza. However, I wasn’t hungry so the tale continues.

I opened the box to reveal three medium pizzas, a retail value of $17.12 according to the label. My brother was still on the phone, and we discussed my options while reveling in the find.

I could call Dominos and tell them of my discovery. They could come pick it up and deliver it. I checked the time stamp on the box – almost an hour ago - that idea wouldn’t work, it would take too long and they would end up arriving late at the destination and giving the pizzas away for free. In that scenario, I received no benefit of finding the pizzas and Dominos would lose too. Scratch that.

I could eat the pizza, but I wasn’t hungry. I could freeze the pizza and eat it later, but I had no freezer space. What should I do!?

The pizza is worth $17.12 to the order-ers… now, was there a way to turn it into cash? All of a sudden I was struck with the greatest idea I may ever have: I could deliver the pizzas. Not only would I receive $17.12, but there should be a tip too!

I googled the address and it appeared the pizzas were to be delivered to a video arcade. At first, I struggled with the idea, but quickly realized that if I didn’t act quickly, all would be for naught. I would be the late delivery guy, and I would be giving them away for free. Or worse, I may arrive at the same time as the real delivery guy… and that would be awkward. Just the thought of the hilarious tale I could tell was worth it. Even if I didn’t get the money, the story-telling potential of this caper was too good to pass up.

I grabbed the keys to my older car with rust racing stripes – no one delivers pizza in a new car. As I opened the apartment door, the Dominos car was exiting the lot, apparently looking for the misplaced pizzas. But I was too late. This self-proclaimed hero had to deliver those pizzas.

I sped to the address on the box and sat for a few minutes, making sure I had all the bases covered. The rusted out jalopy I was driving was the perfect disguise; I looked like every other delivery guy in America. I parked far enough away so that they wouldn’t notice that I didn’t have a Domino’s sign suction-cupped to my car. I looked into the rearview mirror and practiced my “delivery guy demeanor” – my blank, lifeless expression conveyed an IQ of 80 and the travails of a rough life supporting two illegitimate children. The real delivery guy was nowhere to be seen, so I stepped out of the car and made my way to the door, pizza bag in hand.

As I entered, I wasn’t sure quite what to expect. Was it the owners who had ordered dinner? I was ready to react to whatever life through at me. If Dominos learned of the mistake and called or miraculously delivered new pizza, my backup story was that I had found the pizzas and just come by to ‘drop them off’ since I was on my by anyway. There was no one at the customer service booth so I scanned the room. The place was filled with prepubescent hooligans. Two of them caught my eye and stood up. One of them made a beeline for me, and I could see greenbacks poking out from his fist.

“Perfect,” I thought to myself. Dominos had obviously not made any contact yet, and from the looks of these teenagers, they had the collective brainpower of a mentally handicapped baboon. They’d never see through my scam. I confidently said,

“Total’s $17.12,” like I had been doing it for years.

The hooligan handed me a $20. Sweet! I started packing up the hot bag and wanted to quickly escape with my $20 – even better than the $17.12 that I had found.

“Um, can I get change?” the hoodlum muttered.

“Yeah, sorry,” I replied.

What a cheap-ass. This kid is worse than my brother! I dug out my wallet, hoping that I had one dollar bills and hoping that they wouldn’t notice that I was giving them change from my personal wallet and not a Dominos-issued change purse. Luckily, I had the change, handed him $2 and walked, out toting the Domino hot bag.

Victory! I had successfully completed a real-life Grand Theft Auto pizza delivery mission. So the moral of the story is, when life hands you pizzas, do the right thing. Deliver them and make some money!

Postscript

When I recounted my harrowing tale to co-workers the next day, I was met with quizzical stares.

“I thought you were a good person,” was my favorite reaction. I was shocked! After the story ended, we debated my ethical decisions and actions. In order to defend myself and prove that my actions were fair and just, I created an Excel analysis of my options and potential outcomes (Figure 1.1).

I attempted to show the universal impact of my decisions given the parameters of the situation and the potential consequences. Assumptions in this model are:

1)      All outcomes are weighted equally 2)      Domino's corporate owns the Heat Wave Bag and will not charge delivery person for the lost bag (an anonymous call to Domino’s confirmed this assumption)

3)      Teens do not have preference between on-time pizza which is paid for versus free, late pizza

4)      Teens will not give delivery person a tip if he arrives late (I barely got tipped for being on time)

5)      Domino's will not deliver pizzas that have been recovered after being left unattended (let’s hope they have some standards)

Figure 1.1

Across the top of the figure are four possible scenarios that follow finding pizza: eat pizza, deliver pizza, leave pizza in parking lot, and return pizza to Domino's.

The right column illustrates the impacted parties: the teens, the Domino’s franchise, the delivery guy, and me. I color coded the resulting consequences to help decipher the figure for even the most uneducated reader. Green = good. Red = bad.

As shown by the figure, my actions are justified. I prescribe to utilitarianism as a working ethical model.  Utilitarianism is an ethical theory which posits that the proper course of action is the one that maximizes overall "happiness." This means that the moral worth of an action is determined only by the resulting outcome, and that we can only weigh the morality of an action after knowing all its consequences.

  

Noid

So suck it, co-workers and naysayers. My decision to deliver the pizzas left the world with a net impact of (-1). A much “happier” scenario than leaving it in the parking lot (-3), or eating it myself (-3). Sure, this was a bad situation. But thanks to a fast-thinking, ethical hero, negative impacts were minimized. The world would be a better place if there were more people like me.