After a night of studying, I felt famished and decided to order a pizza.
As soon as the delivery guy arrived, I raced to the lobby of my dorm to get my food. But after peeking into the box, every ounce of joy faded as I stared at a pizza that was not what I ordered.
OK, one mistake, not a problem. So I sent it back and waited for the correct order to come.
By the time the driver called to let me know he was on his way, gastric juices had burned semi-potholes in the lining of my stomach.
About 15 minutes later I got a call and the person on the other end told me to walk to another dorm to get my pizza.
This would have been no problem had I lived in that dorm. Perhaps I was wrong in assuming that when you order your food to be delivered, it’s supposed to come to the place where you requested it to be delivered.
When I asked him to come to my residence, you would have thought I asked for a urine sample or something just as odd. In a nutshell, he told me if I wanted my food, I’d come to where he was.
I wondered if this nightmare would ever end. All I wanted was my pizza.
After I called and complained several times and waited another 20 minutes, I peered outside and saw the delivery guy sitting on the steps of the Gray Gore Complex, several meters away from me.
As my box of pizza lay on the ground, I couldn’t help the fit of rage that surged through my body.
I shouted, “So you’re not going to bring me my pizza?”
And he walked away leaving my pizza among the moist pollen and early morning dew.
My initial thought was, “I’m about to go to jail tonight.” I just ordered three pizzas within the last four hours and this tough guy pizza man is messing with the wrong one.
The thing that shocked me the most was his utter disrespect for me as a person.
If I had been a tad bit crazier than I already am, that man could have died. Although I don’t consider myself a violent person, he didn’t know that.
This man had no knowledge of who I am and what I’m capable of doing.
It would have been easy to pull the race card, as he was white. But I don’t need a rude minimum wage worker to show me racism is still alive. For me this was bigger than color or race.
This incident made me realize that respect is not something you earn, but a natural law – the innate right that everyone deserves respect.
I deserve the right to be treated like a human being.
I deserve quality service as a customer. I demand respect.
Yewande Addie is a sophomore newspaper journalism student from Atlanta. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.