Delivery story 362 Mr. Frost writes: I work for an independent pizzeria called The Icehouse in Pottstown, PA and this is my story. This happened in the fall of 2008. It was a rainy night, and it had been rainy for several days. Everything was just dripping and saturated. I don't mind it, but it makes finding houses a little harder. I drove up to the driveway and to my annoyance, saw that it was one of these deals where three mailboxes were at the end, so, looking up the driveway I had no idea which house it was. I pulled into the driveway and called the customer, who informed me of which place was his. He said and I quote: "Drive to the end, park near the garage door on the left side of the house." It was a duplex--you with me? OK. He continued: "Go to the left and follow the stone walkway to the back porch." Alright. I drove up, exited, grabbed the food, and walked towards the back of the duplex. Now, this is where it gets fun. Behind the duplex is a new subdivision. It's uphill from the duplex. Follow me? Rainwater flowing downhill from new subdivision into this guy's backyard. As I rounded the corner, there was suddenly no light, I was shrouded in darkness, and I was stepping into four inches of mud that lay submerged underneath two inches of rainwater. In a panic, I tried desperately to find these stones, to no avail. I almost lost my shoes. I almost dropped the food. I am yelling for help. Turn on a light. Something. And there was no answer from the residence. Finally, after a twenty second struggle that seemed like 15 minutes, I made it to a small concrete stoop where I stood, completely soaked up past my ankles. The customer is looking at me with a blank stare and I am ripping mad. "Dude." I said sharply. "Why didn't you tell me your backyard looked like a California mudslide?" He muttered something that might have been an apology, but he seemed puzzled. Perhaps he didn't know his yard was a muddy lake and no stone walkway could be found. So I said to him, "You could have told me the yard was that bad or at least turned a light on for me so I could see the stones you told me about. My shoes are ruined and my socks are soaking wet." He offers me another stumbling apology that irritated me more, because it's like he is wondering why I am upset. So, we completed the transaction, and I wasn't expecting a tip since I had just criticized him, but he gave me almost $4. I asked him if there was another way to get around to the front, because I wasn't about to brave that again, and wouldn't you know, he said, "There's a sidewalk that goes around the other side of the building." I look and sure enough, there is a nice concrete sidewalk that belongs to the other side of the duplex that this guy failed utterly to tell me about. I looked at him and said, "Thanks." Very bluntly. And left. I thought that would be the end of it but no, three days later there was a complaint on the store's website about a "rude driver who cursed out my husband." She said that I made a big deal over a "little bit of mud"--little bit, eh? I saved the shoes and showed them to the owner, told him what happened, and how this lady was lying through her teeth. The shoes were covered in clay and mud and were unwearable. I had to spend $40 on a new pair of shoes and buy socks THAT VERY NIGHT because her husband did not know the condition of his property or leave a light on or tell me the safest way to get to his door, and then his wife has the gall to complain about *my* attitude? Hey lady, you're lucky I didn't break my ankle in that mud pit of a yard, else I'd have sued you. Ruminate on that next time you want to write our store and complain. return to top