Through the Eyes of a Delivery Goddess |
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This one will traverse both delivery worlds... Mr. B was a fellow we knew through the Post Gazette. We always laughed about him being one of the oldest teenagers we knew; someone who, when we met him, was in his fifties, but had to have every toy, (boat, ski-doo, SUV, camp, snow mobile, quad, etc... you name it, I'm sure he had it). He and his younger wife live in a slightly above average two story home; nothing real expensive or fancy, but upper crust of the middle class type home. Mr. B would take turns bringing any one of his five wroughtwilers to the depot in the back seat of the Crown Victoria - probably purchased because it looked intimidating... like the dogs. They were all very, very well behaved and friendly. He claimed that one of them was always more willing to go for a ride at night than the others, but, when seen separately, they of course, all looked identical. During my short employment with Fox's Pizza, a young assistant manager named Mike could hardly wait for me to get inside the door on one particular day. He asked if I knew Mr. B - he thought I did - and said that he had delivered him a couple of sandwiches at lunchtime. He approached the door - the storm door was closed, but the wooden front door was open; he could see the steps right inside the door leading to the second story. He knocked on the door, thought he heard thunder, then realized, through the storm door, that he could see five huge, black wroughtwilers tripping over each other to get to the door at the bottom of the steps first. He said he actually turned around and ran back down the sidewalk and around the other side of his car, he was so scared. The five huge faces seemed to cloud up the entire bottom pane of glass in the storm door as they jumped and stepped over each other to get a better look at who was knocking on their door. Finally, they started to clear away from the door; he could hear someone inside saying, "That's enough, that's enough... to the kitchen... TO THE KITCHEN!! Mr. B opened the door and said to Mike (all of five feet, six inches tall and probably less than 150 pounds), "What's wrong, boy?" Mike said he carefully approached the door - he could hear the dogs whining in the distantce. Mr. B assured him the dogs would not hurt him, but more than likely, would not even come back into the livingroom while he was there. Mike said he politely turned down the invitation to step inside - he didn't care if the guy even paid him, at that point. By the time my shift started, Mike had been safely back at the shop for over three hours, you could still see his hands shaking. I told him that those dogs were the biggest babies on the face of the earth, and he had nothing of which to be to be afraid. He said that next time Mr B ordered ... he'd call me at home, just to come and deliver that order. He said he'd quit before he'd deliver there again. Just too stressful. Just too funny! |