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Long time ago, I used to be a pizza driver. Not the best job in town but it paid the bills. Dealing with irate customers who think I am late, foul weather, getting lost when you can't see the house numbers, drunk customers who have no money left after boozing it up and paying for my own gas and lying to my insurance company that I do not use my car for deliveries. And yes, we (the drivers) always commented and marked the map of places that didn't tip.
It actually feels kind of terrible when I didn't get a tip. Driving as quick as I could in a snowstorm and not even receive a buck or two, when I see the cute blond waitress make a buck or two for every drink in the local bar.
So, now I am a great tipper to the delivery people. It's just the nice thing to do.
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Life's jounney is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn-out shouting, "Holy sh*t! What a ride!" - unknown 
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