121 Pies

In 1984, I set the Iowa City Domino’s Pizza delivery record.

Thirty Minutes or Free

“Twelve, fourteen, eighteen.”
Calling out delivery times, I ran into Domino’s.

Deposit the money.
Grab the oldest pie from the rack.
Pause.
What else could I take and still beat the clock?

It became a game.
Route.
Run.
Drive.
Beat the clock.

Before GPS, the town lived in my head—
streets, lights, shortcuts, minutes between doors.

Pizza delivered on time. Score.

Forty-five pizzas earned a $3 bonus.
Every one after that added a quarter.
At $3.75 an hour in 1984, it mattered.

I lost ten pounds in the first six weeks—
running hard
and eating all the pizza I wanted.

Before GPS, the map lived in my head.

The Pizza Guy

running out the door
streets and stoplights in my head
steaming hot pizza
gas, brake, shift, racing the clock
molten cheese still steaming hot

Part 1 of a four-story series from my Domino’s days.

Have you ever had a job that felt like a game?