The air turned crisp again, as it is inclined to do in February. Yet, still warmer than is typical for this time of year. I donned my bright yellow Hoodie you could probably see from space and I began my four hours of door dashing. My first order was a shop and delivery order. Which for those of you not in the know is an order that I do the shopping for and the delivery also. I probably didn’t need to explain that but just to make sure everyone understands I kind of did have to explain.
Of course, It is a Dollar General order, no it is not for Tea and Tampons, this time, and to be honest, I have no memory of what was actually ordered, All I can tell you is that it fit in one bag and was light to carry. The order is not why I bring this up, it was the person I almost ran over as I rounded the corner and headed for the checkout that gave me pause. One of my very best friends, the girl who introduced me to my husband of over 20 years, was the friend who let me live with her for a time when I had nowhere else to go. This is the person that I almost ran over in the store with one of those ugly yellow shopping carts. Why was this such a shock? You ask.
Well, it has been over twenty years since I have seen her. I would like to say, that life happened, and we just drifted apart, but alas, that is never the story when I lose a friend. Sometimes, I just look up one day and they are gone. No bye, no kiss my ass, nothing. As my husband and I grew closer, she seemed to disappear from our lives, and the next thing I knew it was nearly Twenty-Five years later, and I all but ran her over at the local Dollar General.
Now, I know I have gained weight and gotten a little gray around the temples, but I haven’t changed so much so that I was unrecognizable from the young girl she once knew and yet, she never even said a word to me. WHAT THE FUCK! How do you not even acknowledge someone that you were once best friends with? Maybe too much time has passed, maybe she like me was thinking “I’m not speaking first.” I mean, our eyes connected for a solid minute, what? Still flabbergasted, I mean, she walked out of my life. Was it my job to speak first? I am so confused, and that right there is probably the real reason we are no longer friends. I seem to give of myself just a little more to friendships that either don’t deserve my loyalty or were never as invested in the first place.
Some, time later I found myself in another part of town where, yes, my last friend used to live or still might. I honestly, don’t know as we haven’t spoken in over five years. Again, not my choice, this one hurt as we had been besties for more than fifteen years and had so much in common it was as if we were the same person at times. Yet, once again, I had a friend who decided she would rather party, among other things, so I couldn’t follow, let’s be clear here. I know how it looks, two friends, both leaving me behind. It wasn’t that I couldn’t follow, I didn’t want to. Instead of dealing with their issues, they took them to dark places and I realized having healed from all my emotional baggage I couldn’t relate to their choices any longer. It took me years and several lost relationships to realize I wasn’t the problem. You can’t fix what doesn’t want to be fixed.
Ever heard of the “broken bird” syndrome. It’s a real thing, look it up. The long and short of it is this, when a man or woman gets into a relationship, they think, “I can fix them.” Well, I have this with friends. Of my friends throughout my life, I have seemed to almost attract them to me in one way, shape, or form. Maybe I recognize or sympathize with their brokenness because I was once there, in those trenches myself. What they don’t seem to realize is that it took decades to heal from said trauma. Trauma they are unwilling to see or even feel their way through. I refused to let my past change or ruin my present and future, while others ran from it. I embraced the pain and turned it into something else, something, better.
It didn’t dawn on me until several hours after my door dash ended that I had, had not one, but two blasts from my past show up in just a couple of hours. Yet, not all of my “old friends” ended on a bad note, and not all of them were done with me, as I later found myself doing my next to last order of the night, it was another shop and delivery order I was in the local grocery store and just as I was about to leave the produce aisle movement caught my eye. I watched as a rogue Roma tomato all but popped itself up and slowly and deliberately like a slinky rolled and hopped its way to the floor in front of me. Again, I say to you, WHAT THE FUCK? As someone who believes in spirits, I immediately was like,” ok, who is here with me?” Getting no response, I continued on with my order, not wanting to admit maybe the produce section wasn’t the reason a chill had just shot straight down my spine. By the time I checked out and started making my way to the customer’s place, I had all but forgotten the fallen tomato. When I suddenly, found myself in front of my old friend’s apartment building. As I dropped off the delivery, I couldn’t help but smile at that exact moment I felt her with me. You see, this friend passed away a couple of years ago, and I can tell you without a doubt that tomato was her way of saying you’re on your way to my old house. This was definitely a night of magic and wonder, as I trotted down memory lane on more than one occasion.
Then finally, my last order arrived I grabbed it real quick and headed to this person’s house, and at night it is hard to read house numbers. So, if you don’t know, DoorDash will ping the location a couple houses away from the upcoming house. Well, Google Maps does. Anyway, I get on the street, and it pings and I spend what feels like an eternity looking between three houses for a house number with no porch light on at any of these houses. I ask you how the hell am I supposed to deliver to the right house if I can’t read in the dark? It still boggles my mind that people order things and then expect someone to show up at their house in the dark and just know the address is right. Listen up for those of you who get the late-night munchies and need a Taco Bell fix at ten p.m. LEAVE THE FUCKING PORCH LIGHT ON!
I had to walk up to the house with my phone light on just to see the address, so I could deliver to the right house. Thank God I did because there were giant trimmed tree limbs all over the driveway all the way to the front steps. What? It is one thing to forget that you didn’t turn your porch light on for the delivery person you paid to come to your house. It is a whole other thing to boobie trap them with some shit in the driveway. I almost fell on my face a couple of times. Trying to deliver some fried chicken. Hell no, I don’t want that on my Tombstone. Can you picture it, “HERE LIES ANGELA DIED BY ROGUE TREE BRANCH, WHILE DELIVERING KFC!” No, thank you. I mean, if I were a lesser person I would have knocked on the door of the “contactless delivery” and screamed at him about the hazardous materials he just left lying around and let him know if I had fallen he could have been sued. Yet, as my body decided it had, had enough and my stomach began to grumble with hunger pains I decided to walk away to end my night while silently shooting daggers at the darkened house.
This is the question I pose today. Do you leave your porch light on for delivery drivers? Have you ever even thought about it? I bet you are now huh?
Sacrificial Chain Breaker 