I was expecting a delivery from DHL this morning. I had the tracking number and according to the website the "goods" were on the van. Status: Out for Delivery.
Yesterday was a false alarm. I had the tracking number but the status read: Unknown.
I figured that since the expected delivery date was yesterday it would have been delivered yesterday regardless of the status.
I was wrong. No status, no delivery.
Yesterday came and went as I sat by the window like Scarlett O'Hara waiting for Rhett Butler.
Rhaally, I did. (eyelashes batting furiously)
UPS was all over the street delivering Christmas lawn ornaments from the Monstrous Inflatable Company. FedEx was close behind piled high with Amazon.com boxes.
I finally gave up, lit a candle for the window, and went to bed.
In the morning I got up early, keyed in my tracking number and was greeted by a veritable cornucopia of information. Package received, package scanned, scan acknowledged, package loaded into delivery van, delivery van engine started, delivery van encountering dense traffic, slowing down for school zone.
Oh, joy! It’s coming, it’s coming!
I had several cups of coffee and waited expectedly by the window, my breath fogging the glass in the cold morning air. Soon I was out of coffee and out of breath. The empty box of Puffs and an overwhelming hankering for chicken soup signaled that I needed to make a Kroger's run or I might be too feeble to rip apart the packaging once "it" arrived, suffering from the effects of a cold as I was.
A mental calculation told me that if I was quick and efficient I could dash to the store and scurry back before the traffic density factor dropped to the point that the delivery probability neared unity, assuming the value of pi held over that interval. In a flash I was in the truck and bounding down the road keeping a keen eye out for yellow delivery vans sporting red lettering, just in case I had to make an emergency return.
In my mind I plotted out my shopping path through Kroger's and, once I arrived, executed my plan with military precision: vegetables, Puffs and a plump chicken. In a blur I was through the self-serve checkout lane and heading home, on the prowl like the Terminator for yellow delivery vans.
Arriving home I was relieved to see that the streets were clear and quiet, and prepared to breathe a congested sigh of relief until I spied The Tag hanging from the front door.
A yellow tag sporting red lettering.
Oh, yes. The tag read, "We waited until we saw you leave your house, then we came out of hiding and tried to deliver your package but, of course, you were already gone! So, we're leaving you this tag to remind you what an idiot you were for leaving the house when you knew the delivery van was on the road. So there."
Before I ground my teeth into powder, though, there was a P.S. at the bottom.
P.S. We'll be back in your neighborhood in an hour which will give you time to unpack your shopping and get your chicken soup started.
Somewhat dejected, that’s exactly what I did and as I finished seasoning the soup and putting the lid on the pot I heard a van pull up to the front of the house.
A yellow delivery van with DHL in big, red letters.
“Here you go,” the delivery guy said, “sign here. Thanks. Have a nice day, drink plenty of fluids, get some rest and enjoy your chicken soup. I always add a quarter-cup of vermouth. That’s good in chicken soup.” He hopped into the van and drove off.
I walked back into the kitchen and put the package on the table. I fixed a cup of coffee; no rush, now. And found myself humming,
“Here comes Santy Claus, here comes Santy Claus…”