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Thursday, January 8, 2015

Open Letter: Tearjerked Chicken

What a crazy day this has been! But I will spare you the drama and get right to the point of this post.

The first week back at work after the holidays is a hellish week for me. At night, if there is nothing easy to throw together for dinner - we order something. After a back and forth about fast food, take-out, or delivery we settled on ordering from my favorite BBQ chicken place. Too tired to even place the call, DH ordered around 6:15pm. As always, he took off to his man cave for a bit while I watched TV and looked out the window for dinner to arrive. Around 7:15 I saw what I thought to be their delivery car drive by, but assumed someone else had simply ordered as well. After all, they have amazing chicken and even better BBQ sauce! But by 7:50, I was calling the restaurant to see what the hell was going on!

After speaking to the receptionist as well as the manager, I found out the delivery "guy" had already been back to the restaurant and claimed he had been to our door and nobody answered. I told them that was impossible as I was by the window the whole time. They sent the "guy" back to our house and we worked out a small credit for our next order in the meantime.

Back to my window... see the car pull up... go to open the door... and... this is not the type of delivery "guy" I am used to! Instead, I see a much older, withered and wrinkled man with his head low and our (now) sad looking boxes of chicken in his hands. He is crying. He is apologizing over and over again. He is shaking, either from emotion or the bitter cold - or both I suppose. I took the boxes, put my hand on his shoulder and said "it's ok, everybody makes mistakes. You simply went to the wrong home" and handed him his money, tip included. He shook his head, still crying, and said he could not accept a tip from me and insisted I take my change. I refused, he apologized once more, he thanked me and then he walked back to his car.

After going inside, I placed the food on the table but went back to close the blinds and that was when I saw him again. Sitting there, in his car, all alone, weeping and wiping tears from his face. He was so emotional that my eyes started stinging and I knew I had to call his manager immediately even though I was starving!

I called his manager and told him what had happened. I asked him to pass a message along to the man for me, explaining once again that I was in no way upset with him! I told his manager that everybody makes mistakes and that I hope he will be excused for those and not get into any trouble over tonight's mishap.

When he goes home at the end of his shift tonight, and before he goes to bed, I only hope that this man remembers what I said to him and the call I placed to his manager afterwards. If any harsh words were said to him by his manager about my first call, regarding disappointing a customer or anything else of that nature, I hope that those are forgotten.

I don't know why, but whenever an older gentleman delivers food to our home I always feel something tug at my heart. At that age, you should be able to enjoy what is left of your life and spend your time with your loved ones. You shouldn't be out, driving around in the bitter cold, trying to make ends meet delivering food to people's doors. If you enjoy it and that is what you live for, then great! But most of the time, I think they do it because they need the money and that really bothers me in so many ways.

To the nameless man whose face I will never forget, thank you! It was delicious!