Roy Williams: Pizza Delivery Boy

Photo from the Detroit Free Press
A couple weeks back a widely publicized interview with Detroit Lions wide reciever Roy Williams, it was said that Roy was a bad tipper. HE even went on to say that he didn't tip the pizza delivery guy at all. Since he had outed himseelf, Pizza Hut decided to give him a chance to see what life was like as a delivery driver for a pizza chain.

With cameras rolling, and a whole slew of spectators, just like on Sundays, Roy Williams arrived at Tiffany Marchyok's front door Tuesday evening holding a pepperoni pizza in a Pizza Hut windbreaker.

"You're the one who doesn't tip, right?" Marchyok said as she swung open her screen door.

A company executive in Dallas had challenged Williams to deliver pizzas for an afternoon when he got wind of Williams' penchant for stiffing pizza delivery people. (Williams said he assumed the gratuity was included in the bill.)

When he handed the pepperoni pizza to Marchyok, she asked him what the total was.

"The total is on the house," he said.

She thanked him, had him pose for pictures with children and watched as Williams headed back to the black Suburban waiting for him at the curb, trying to catch her breath.

"He's cuter in person," she said.

Williams started his afternoon at a Pizza Hut on Telegraph, where he met with the manager and some other employees for a quick training session to learn the dos and don'ts of the delivery business.

In other words, the rules he apparently hadn't been thinking of every time he sent the delivery person away empty-handed.

They include:

• Do NOT carry excess personal cash.

• Drive with the doors locked.

• Do not park in driveways.

• Never cross the threshold of a house.

• Walk quickly and stay alert.

• Do NOT handle money in the open.

• Drive with doors locked.

"He was humble," said Steve Berry, a driver for Pizza Hut. "I think he knows he got himself into this."

At the NFL Youth Education Team Boys and Girls Club on Detroit's west side, Williams arrived with a couple of pizzas. It was his first stop after the training. Dozens of kids -- mostly 6 and 7 -- asked him questions.

"Why did you start making pizzas?" a kid asked, not realizing that Williams was only delivering them.

"Because I didn't tip the pizza man," Williams explained to them.

After a few more questions and answers, the receiver reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled $100 bill. He held it high and asked the crowd of children who wanted it.

Chaos ensued as the kids crushed up against the 6-foot-4 Williams, knocking him back a step. Some of the center's employees had to act as human barricades.

"Wow," Williams turned and mouthed as the kids finally backed up.

He had wanted to relate a story that no matter how crumpled something is, someone, somewhere is still going to want it. The moral of his story was lost. But Williams didn't seem to mind.

He had learned his lesson.