Delivery Blues
There’s something wonderful about getting a package delivered. There is great joy in waiting—the thrill of anticipation. Tracking it online brings happiness to my heart. When I wake up on delivery day, I don’t want to go out because of fear of missing it. My heartbeat quickens at the sound of a U.P.S. or FedEx truck outside—the roar of the engine, the squeal of the brakes. I want to throw the door open before the delivery person even knocks and say, “Yes, that package is for me. I’ll sign where ever you want.” I like to feel the weight of the package in my hand. I use a knife to slice through the tape. I dig though the Styrofoam packing. It’s exactly what I ordered, and all is well.
This scenario doesn’t always play out so perfectly. My husband ordered a harmonica online a few weeks ago. The first problem is that he ordered it a few weeks ago and it’s taken this long to be delivered. It wasn’t in stock at the time that he ordered it. He checked his bank account online everyday to see if the company had taken the money out of his account yet. When they finally did, he knew his harmonica was on the way.
He patiently tracked its course and waited. Everyday he told me about it. He told me about how wonderfully the harmonica would play. He told me about his friend who played this brand of harmonica and thought it was great. He told me about how all of the troubles that he had with his old harmonica would not be an issue with this new one.
Delivery day came. He didn’t want to go out because he wanted to be here when it arrived. On the way back from taking out the trash, we saw a FedEx truck pull into our apartment complex. He took off running to our apartment so he would be there before the truck. Alas, the truck didn’t stop at our place.
Later, that afternoon still no package arrived. He decided to track it online. Surprisingly, the package was shown as delivered at 2:38 that afternoon. Dismayed, he called FedEx. The woman he talked to said that the driver said he left it under the doormat. I checked. There was no harmonica under our doormat. “But I waited all day,” he said, “and it never came.”
After he got off of the phone, he told me that they delivered it to the wrong address. The woman he spoke to said that they would investigate the situation. If they don’t deliver the harmonica to him in 48 hours, he will have to file a claim.
We decided to do some investigating of our own. We drove up and down our street. The address that they claimed to have delivered it to doesn’t even exist. The numbers skip and where the address should be there is only a patch of trees. Where is the harmonica? Was it left outside of a hallow tree? The squirrel that lives in the tree comes home to find a package at his door. “What is this?” he wonders aloud. Because squirrels can’t read he doesn’t realize that the package isn’t for him. He excitedly gnaws the package open. He digs through the packing material. “A harmonica,” he says to himself, “Just what I’ve always wanted.” The squirrel grips the harmonica in his paws and tries to determine if his large front teeth will affect his technique.
