TIFU Delivery Journey

It all started at 8:37 p.m., when I realized something absolutely devastating: I was hungry.

But not just any hunger. No. It was the kind of hunger worthy of survival documentaries. The kind that makes you stare at your refrigerator as if it were a museum of useless and sad objects: a dried-out lemon, a suicidal onion, and a bottle of sauce no one remembers buying.

So I made the most responsible and adult decision possible: ordering food through an app.

I opened the app, the one that swears it knows you better than your mother, and was greeted with a very helpful selection of options:

Sushi from places with poorly translated Japanese names

Vegan burgers that cost as much as minor surgery

“Healthy food” that already makes you sad just looking at the picture

After 30 minutes of scrolling—more time than I’ve spent in some relationships—I decided on the classic: pizza. Because nothing says “I respect myself enough” like a family pizza at 9 p.m.

I placed the order. Confirmed. “Estimated time: 25 minutes.”

Fool that I was. I believed. I dreamed. I trusted.

After 40 minutes, I checked the app.

The delivery guy, named Jonathan, was two blocks away.

Excellent. I could already feel the melted cheese embracing my soul.

But then… Jonathan stopped moving.

Literally. On the map. Still. As if it had merged with the sidewalk.

Was he abducted? Did he fall in love mid-flight? Is he wrestling a bear?

Finally, at 67 minutes, my door rang.

I opened it with the excitement of someone receiving a Hogwarts letter.

And there he was. The delivery guy. It wasn’t Jonathan. It was someone else, clearly a new hire, bag in one hand and a lost soul in the other.

“Here’s your order,” he said, with the enthusiasm of a dead cactus.

I received the pizza. I opened it.

Cold.

Squashed.

And of course: without the drink I ordered.

But that’s okay. I ate it anyway. Because you don’t get into this life for the glamour.

You get into it because deep down, deep down, you’ve accepted that living like this is also an art form.

TL;DR: I was hungry, so I ordered pizza via the app. They promised me 25 minutes, but it took over an hour. The delivery guy disappeared into space and time, and the pizza arrived cold, squashed, and without a drink. I ate it anyway because I no longer have dignity, only hunger.