Through the Eyes of a Delivery Goddess |
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There was a young gal in her late twenties or early thirties who only ordered a salad once a week, during the day, usually around 1pm. For awhile several years ago, and again recently, I was working over lunch quite often, and would deliver her salad to her. She always made constant eye contact, to the point where it was almost difficult to look at her. Her hair never seemed combed, she had fairly thick glasses and a light overbite that she flaunted with her big huge smile everytime I walked down the steps to the house. Without fail, the first question I received was, "So, are you busy today?" I tried to answer truthfully, whether we were busy or slow. Most lunches were slow. The next question was always, "What time will your shift end?" Again, I just politely answered the question. With many folks, I'd try to find a smarty-pants answer, just to share a laugh, but with her, she seemed so simple and genuine, I did not want to run the risk of offending her, or making her feel like I was poking fun. She talked rather loud, and without knowing her any further than a quick exchange at the door, she seemed a bit on the emotionally simple side. She always asked how much it was, I'd tell her, and she would count back the one dollar bills and the exact coins into my hand, one at a time, almost like she was showing off the fact that she could count money. She would always brightly say, "Thank you so much and have a really nice rest of the day", and without waiting for a response, would turn on her heels and walk back into the house. I always tried to yell "Thanks" back, but I'm never sure if she heard me or not. One afternoon, she seemed very nervous. She didn't make much eye-contact and her hands made nervous gestures, like rubbing her thighs with her palms, and crossing her arms while I walked to the door. She smiled only briefly, and looked down when she asked her usual questions... "Busy today? what time does your shift end? How much do I owe you?" I answered, she counted out the money one coin and one bill at a time into my hand as usual and I started to hand her the salad. She stuck her hand in her pocket and looked right and left as if it was a big secret - she had two one-dollar bills folded in half in her pocket. She put them into my hand on top of her payment, looked me in the eye and said, "These are just for YOU", then took her salad. I tried to put some excitement and extra volume into my voice when I said, "Wow, Thank you VERY much". She shyly murmered, "you're welcome" and walked into the house. I have to believe she was holding the extra money just for me - if someone else had delivered her lunch, I don't think they would have gotten the tip. It pays to be nice to ALL people with NO expectation in return. Anything worth while is difficult. |