Starring Samantha: Drama Enthusiast, Certified Overthinker.
It was 11:04 PM, on a chilly Friday night, and Samantha had just returned from her best friend’s house, still wrapped in a hoodie that smelled like microwave popcorn and cherry lip gloss. Her street was dead quiet—except for the distant hum of a car engine and the faint glow of a porch light two houses down.
That’s when she saw him.
A guy. In a black hoodie. Leaning against a beat-up Toyota with the engine running. He pulled out a phone, tapped it a few times, then looked up.
Right at her.
Her heart did seventeen backflips.
“Oh my God. I’m being watched. This is it. This is how it starts. I read about this on Reddit.”
Samantha ducked behind the bush next to her driveway like she was in a Jason Bourne movie and peered through the leaves. The guy reached into the passenger seat and pulled out “A pizza box.“
“Suspicious.”
She squinted. “That’s exactly what they’d want you to think. Classic spy move. Hide in plain sight. Blend in as a delivery guy. This has to be deep cover.”
She whipped out her phone and opened notes.
OPERATION: PIZZA SPY
Exhibit A: Black hoodie (standard spy uniform).
Exhibit B: Creepy late-night timing (who delivers pizza past 11 PM unless it’s a code drop?).
Exhibit C: He looked her dead in the eye like he knew things.
Just as she was planning her escape route (backyard trampoline → neighbor’s shed roof → freedom), her mom yanked open the front door.
“Samantha. Why are you spying on the pizza guy? Again?”
The alleged pizza delivery guy glanced over, eyebrows raised. Then—did he just smirk?
Samantha froze. “He knows I know.”
“He’s delivering to the Millers,” her mom sighed. “Get out of the shrubbery.”
Shrubbery?! She was protecting the neighbourhood!
Still, she casually power-walked inside like nothing happened, throwing one last suspicious glance over her shoulder—just in case she needed to sprint for her life.
Inside, she locked the door, closed the curtains, and collapsed onto the couch with a granola bar. Her eyes narrowed.
“Okay, Mr. Pizza Spy. You won this round. But I’m watching you.”
Then she opened her Notes app and added:
– Learn how to tell if someone’s wearing a wire.
Research: Can pizza boxes hold surveillance equipment?
Check if the Millers are really just ordering pizza… or receiving coded messages.
Moral of the story: It’s not paranoia if you’re just very imaginative and slightly dramatic.
(But maybe check if your neighbour actually ordered food before you commit to a bush stakeout.)
