There are some nights when you can't believe the people you meet. And that's without even leaving your home. Friday night was one of those nights. After having spent the night at Wal-Mart, Dick's Sporting Goods, Petsmart and Kroger buying Soap Scum remover, water bottles, cat food and human food, among other things, I went home exhausted and excited about starting the meal plan...on Saturday. I mean, it's just silly to start a meal plan two thirds of the way into the day, right?
So to celebrate our new begining, Chef and I went out with a Bang. Or a breadbowl to be more precise. A suprisingly delicious card-loaded (saying my last goodbyes before I'm relegated to two servings of whole grains--one of which is oatmeal) pasta-filled breadbowl from Domino's. Not normally a place that would call to us, but it totally hit the spot. What really weirded us out was the delivery woman, Scarlett. The normal food delivery transaction is fairly simple and short, hand over food, exchange for money or signature on credit card receipt, close door. This night was different.
This woman chatted Chef up while he was getting the food and then demanded to see my driver's license before she would hand over the food. (I'd put the online order on my card). I did and she stood there with the door propped open for so long that Genghis ran out of the apartment. . .while she just stood there. No effort to get out of Chef's way or concern for our animal. She then proceeded to tell me that she and her mom ran a Barber business, but her mom died a year ago. "But I still come to people's houses to cut their hair," she said. "I can come back here and cut both of yours." She then handed me her business card.
After we FINALLY got her all the information she needed to process my card (urine sample, blood draw and 10 forms of id), she opened the warmer to find that she'd only brought half our order. I was immediately irritated mostly because I knew she'd have to come back. And she did a mere 10 minutes later. Of course it took 20 minutes because Chef had to spend the time talking to her about how pissed her manager was at her.
We thought the Scarlett saga was over until we heard a third knock at the door just as we were finishing. Scarlett had lost my credit card receipt and asked if she could have the one she'd given me back so that her manager wouldn't get pissed. When I finally found it and rewrote all the info on it, she asked me if I was from Nashville. When I said no, she then proceeded to talk about how much my mom must miss me because she misses her daughter who lives in a double-wide in North Carolina. I am not adding any detail to this. She told me this at the door as I was trying to politely close it. But after a while, being polite is not an option. When she went back into telling me how much my mom must miss me, I finally just snapped.
"My mom's been dead for 9 years. Have a nice night!" and shut the door.
If you're ordering Domino's from the Belcourt location, just make sure Scarlett doesn't deliver it. It almost made me glad that I'm not going to be ordering out for a while.
2 comments:
Sometimes I am very Phoebe and love telling people that my mom is dead.
There are very few advantages to having a dead mother, so when you see the opportunity to use one, you have to go for it-guilt free.
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