Thursday, May 27, 2010

How I did not tip the little man and other nonsense

Hmmm. Hm.

A little man delivered three doors and about four million feet of baseboard to my house today. He was careful about not scratching floors and stuff and I was thinking, Self, it would be nice to tip this little guy. What's his name. Alberto. Fernando. Feliciano.

He hoofed three heavy doors into my garage on his back, literally. There was another guy sitting in the truck, watching him do it. Could he have used a hand truck? Presumably. Was he the fittest little fellow? No. Paunchy. Out of breath. Please, little guy, use a hand truck.

I paid $80 to have all of this wood delivered to my house, not to mention the cost of the materials themselves, which: Sweet Lord in Heaven, that shit costs a lot.

It was one of those surprise deliveries where they tell you what day they're going to deliver it, but the surprise is you never know what time. It's really exciting!! As it happens, Roberto (Carlos? Manuel?) showed up during a torrential downpour/thunderstorm. Five minutes before he arrived: Not raining. Five minutes after he left: Not raining.

I did not tip Enrique (Oswaldo? Ruben?) because I do not carry cash, ever. Anywhere that cash is required is pretty much not a place that I go. And as I signed my name and cheerfully wished Roman (Rafael? Pancho?) a good day, I could see that I was one of those customers. One of those customers pretending that their cheerful demeanor is going to make up for the fact that they did not give a tip, and meanwhile this poor delivery guy has got, like, 50 more doors to hoof on his back into people's garages today and probably like six hungry kids at home who will have to eat cabbage soup for dinner again because I do not visit the ATM.

The other day we went to the Safeway of Broken Dreams and as we were leaving, there was a man standing outside the door asking for donations for a children's shelter. As a rule, my husband will either ignore these people completely, or just say "Nope!" and keep walking. Which is understandable. I mean, for starters, there are constantly people asking for donations wherever you go. I like to donate occasionally, but when a guy in a beanie who looks like he hasn't showered for a week is standing outside a Safeway with a handwritten sign, asking for donations for the "children's shelter" (Which children's shelter? THE children's shelter, of course), one begins to suspect that perhaps this person is really collecting donations to keep his monkey fed, if you get my meaning.

As we left the SOBD (Safeway of Broken Dreams), the man requested "a dollar? A quarter? A dime? A nickel? A penny?" And I said "Sorry" and kept walking, and he shouted after us, "You guys really need to start helping us out! We can't do it without you!"

An attempt to, what? Shame us into donating to the "children's shelter"?

Anyway. I sometimes donate to these people, if they look legitimate, and it happens to be a rare day on which I actually have cash in my wallet. I donate to causes I care about, to charities I research and am knowledgeable about. This in-your-face solicitation outside (or inside at the registers) SOBD and other stores is unwelcome and suspect.

So that was a bit of a tangent!

At any rate, there is a lot of wood in my house right now, and next week a carpenter named Sergio is going to come work his magic with it, and I will be taking photos and herding cats and hoping for dry, warm weather.

That's it for today, loves.

1 comment:

  1. dude you are cracking me up with this one!!