My best friend in Oregon called me a couple of weeks ago to say she ordered some chocolates for me. It was an online order, which was confirmed for delivery within five business days. So, time whizzed by and the five business days came and went, and no chocolates arrived at my door.
Today was the 9th business day, so my friend called me to ask if the chocolates ever arrived. I said, no. She said she had called the courier, who said they delivered on the 5th business day, and in fact, someone signed the receipt with the initials GEE.
“Check the address,” I suggested. After so many times she had sent stuff to my home address, it would be unusual that she’d make a mistake, but when she checked her confirmation e-mail, it did show a wrong apartment number. She started freaking out.
The package was delivered six days ago – the chocolates would have all been consumed by now. We had the same thought. She said she’d replace it. I said, no need, it’s the thought that counts. But it won’t hurt to ask, so I said I’d check out the apartment that was supposed to have received my goodies. Luckily, it was just a few doors down.
I knocked, and, luckily, the residents were home. I started explaining to her that a package had been erroneously delivered to their unit. She said, in her thick Hispanic accent, “No. Package not deliver here. Deliver at leasing office. They call me. Give me package not my name. I give it to tall white man. I show you.”
We walked over to the office, which was, luckily, just a few meters away. The tall white man was luckily there, so she said to him, “Remember last week, I have package here not mine? She belongs to it.”
Luckily, the tall white man remembered. He went to the back, and asked, “What’s the name again”? I yelled out my name, and he said, “Oh, ye, here it is.”
With the precious chocolates finally in my hands, I thanked the lady for going out of her way. And I thanked the tall white man for not throwing away the package — clearly marked “perishable” — after it had sat there for six days. Luckily, my friend didn’t try to send me moose meat.
So, I called my friend back to say that we had been pretty lucky with this missing chocolates episode — in more ways than one.
In case you’re curious, these are Oregon Host Premium Chocolate Covered Hazelnuts. Absolutely to-die-for! Want some?