Sorry that I have to get on here to beg you all for a hand out like some kind of freeloader, but I guess there was a bit of a miscommunication recently on the behalf of some inconsiderate jerks that I used to call friends.
Turns out that simply doing a good deed isn’t enough for these ingrates—they actually expect me to follow through on the promise of a toppingless, medium pizza in payment for, at most nine hours of manual labor, moving a 500lb. grand piano up a measly fourteen flights of stairs. Assholes, am I right?
I remember when I asked them to move the piano, while I supervised from a distance casually sipping a banana daiquiri, and jokingly added that I’d pay for lunch – those guys didn’t seem enthusiastic about helping at all. You mean to tell me that just because you have a “bad back” or because you’re “still recovering from jaundice” means you can’t put in a hard day’s work, with no benefit, for a dear friend? Apparently not that dear, I guess.
They’re such whiners. The whole time that they were moving the piano all I hear is, “Aren’t you gonna help us?” or “Oh God! My foot! It broke my foot!” like this is some kind of big to-do. Real drama queens if you ask me. They took so long moving that thing that I was almost late for my bi-weekly massage. But do you hear me complaining? No!
So now I guess I gotta get these goons a pizza. And I know that reading this you’re probably seething with just as much rage and indignation as I feel but I am, if nothing else, a reasonable person. If they really feel they’ve earned a FREE pizza then I guess I’ll have to get it for them. Again, no toppings though. I’m reasonable, but I don’t wanna spoil them.