CURBSIDE ETIQUETTE

Through the Eyes of a Delivery Goddess





Below you will find links to dates when new entries are added. The stories will not necessarily be in chronological order, but rather as I remember them. I am dating them so that you can skip to new ones you haven't read since the last time you visited, and so that you are more easily able to find something you found humorous to share with others.



While we're on the subject of giving, I thought everyone might enjoy this story, even though it's a pre-delivery story.

TWenty years ago, I worked at a bakery about 30 hours per week; it was right in town and I walked to work. Our most frequent patrons were from the art school around the corner - typically people under age 25 can still physically afford to have sweets every morning for coffee break. We had some regulars - one particular older lady, I'd say she was around 70 years old at that time, came in about twice a week for bread and occasionally, a cake if she was entertaining. She had good and bad days - we learned that when she came to town in her blue scarf that matched her silver hair with the blueish tint, she was having a GOOD day. She had two other favorite scarves; one was green that did not match her hair, and the other was a loud print scarf that clashed horribly with her amber colored coat. When she wore the non-blue scarves, we knew she was not having a good day, and we kept a close eye on her. She seemed to have some kind of secure feeling about the bakery - if she stayed for a longer time than normal, or returned during the same day, we knew that we needed to call a taxi and send her home; she'd forgotten where she lived. The first time it happened, we were able to get her to root through her purse and find some ID with her address on it, and we talked her into taking a ride home from our "friend" in the yellow car. I have no idea how much the taxi cost; we threw them a $5 out of our pockets and hoped it was enough to get her home. No driver ever asked for more when we told them she was lost and didn't know how to get home. She lived about 15 blocks away, we never did find out if someone dropped her off, or if she walked that far.

There was another woman that the other workers seemed to ignore and even shun. She walked past the bakery daily with her beagle in tow. She always stopped and looked in the window, you could almost see the wheels turning in her head, wishing she could have something good to eat. She was short, nearly toothless, and straggley looking. One day, when I was there alone, I opened the door and asked if there was something she needed. She said she had no money, and just enjoyed wishing for a treat once in awhile. Even though I was NOT allowed to give away ANY food - we were required to sell day-old food as fresh, and two-day old as day old for half price, then throw it away on the third day - I snuck her a loaf of bread one day. When I was there alone, I'd pull aside some of the better looking and fresher day-old foods, and when she came by, I'd have a bag of stuff for her. I paid for the stuff when I could afford it, but there were times I really didn't have enough, but good grief, it was going to be thrown away, anyway. One day it was terribly cold outside, I let her and the beagle right inside the door for a minute, just to thaw out. She told me that her husband was in a nursing home somewhere right there in town, and that she walked down to visit him daily. They let him into a closed in area where they allowed the dog into, too. She said he had some kind of brain problem - she herself seemed to be someone who hadn't had much education or chance to excel in life. I have to believe, after talking with her, that given the chance, she could have held down a job, but I just don't think she'd really ever been given the chance. I think she tried to be the best person she knew how to be. When I started working at Eat-n-Park, too, I'd bring home food for her when I could; she was so appreciative. A few days before Christmas, she passed by the window probably a dozen times until the place was empty. We were really busy, and I was not the only worker that day. Blue scarf lady needed a ride home, so when she was the only other person in the shop, I motioned for the beagle lady to come in. I think I knew her name at the time, but have forgotten it now. She handed me a box with tears in her eyes - and said, "It's not much, but I can never repay your kindness and big heart. I've never known anyone like you." I gave her a hug and handed the dog a donut; then gave her a sandwich I had from Eat-n-Park the day before. If I'd have known her living conditions - like if she actually had a place to live and a refrigerator, I might have given her more, but I didn't like to ask, and she never offered. She left quickly because she knew she shouldn't have the dog inside a place with food. I opened the metal box after she left. It was about a 3" x 5" size, about an inch deep, and had a thin, loosely tied yellow ribbon around it in one direction. It was a box of note paper with a graphic of a rainbow in the corner. It was half used, and had a pen inside that was obviously not new, either. She had poorly written, "Thank you for all you do for me and Duke" and she signed her name.

Christmas really should be a year-round state of mind.