We killed a guy when I worked at Papa John's. We had a regular customer that would order every day, sometimes twice a day. A couple of 2 liters of Diet Pepsi, and two large orders of cheese sticks, one with bacon. He used to get bacon on both, but the second order was for his dog, "and the dog needed to lose a little weight." The man super morbidly obese. The dog was in pretty rough shape too.

The last time I delivered to him, he was unable to make it to the door, he was stuck on the floor in his hallway, too fat and exhausted to make it the last few feet to feed his craving. He cried out for me to come in and just serve him on his floor, but I refused. I left and called him in a wellness check. He died not long after.

It bothered me for a while, knowing that the poison I brought him every day contributed to his poor health and eventual death. But he tipped well enough, and if it wasn't us it would have been Domino's. One cannot keep an addict from using. A smoker can't blame the cashier for their lung cancer.

I don't miss him, his money always smelled disgusting.