Jeff doesn’t care about a lot at 2 am. Even with some showdown between heroes and villains on his route. It’s whatever. He’s got pizzas to deliver.
Fuck, god damn. He just wants a smoke at his point but last time he tried that while riding his scooter, well, there was a lot of free pizza for some people nearby.
Tooting up the side street, Jeff squints against the neon lights that litter the San Francisco streets.
There. He knows that tipped-over trash can that nobody bothers to put back up. Another turn and he’ll be there and can finally drop off these two family-sizes and get a smoke.
He’s still got 7 minutes. Score.
His ass feels like somebody’s tried to shove a rod up in the good times, and takes a second to unhinge his underwear from between his cheeks. Ah, that’s better.
Jeff then reaches over and unties the pizzas, almost dropping one, though his super duper dexterous hand manages to catch it.
Shoulder open the door, then trudge up the stairs and finally Jeff is at the customer.
He stubs his toe knocking on the door. Hands full of pizza and trying to pull the order out of his jacket.
Then he swears again as the door opens and somebody steps on his foot.
“God, damn, shit.”
“Oh I’m sorry.” The person says.
Jeff shakes his head, counts to five and then looks up at the customer. “Eddie Brock I hope? Got you some pizzas.”
“Yeah! Great, been waiting.”
“‘M not late yet,” Says Jeff though all he can think about is the smoke he’ll have in a minute. “Got change?”
They spend like 2 minutes to try and figure out the change. Fortunately Eddie seems not to care that much and Jeff stands with a 5 dollar change.
Now Jeff can have his smoke.