Dear Delivery Guy,
Well, this is awkward.
You’re here again at my home. I’m not wearing a bra and I’m paying you for intimate services rendered: the delivery of my dinner.
But the worst part is that you made it really awkward. And that’s saying something because I’m usually the one to make a situation awkward.
When you came here with your Thai food delivery, you handed it to me and said, “oh, you again.” Well, shit. Yes, I just got your restaurant’s delivery a few nights ago. But I was craving it again. So I ordered it again.
Is this because you gave me a free cream soda the other day? I told you that I didn’t order it. Because who orders cream soda? And what self-respecting restaurant has it in stock?
I suppose I should use my words. When you say “oh, you again,” it made me feel like you were judging me, Delivery Guy. Because I’m pretty sure you were.
I cook a lot of nights, but last night just I didn’t feel like it last night. I felt tired. I just wanted someone to bring me dinner. But wait a minute, I don’t owe you anything. Except the money for the food, of course. And a tip.
So, here’s a tip. Keep your opinions to yourself. In the world of food service-as-sex, delivery is basically an escort service. So, a little discretion would be most appreciated.
Now, you get out of here. I’m going to let to slip into something a little more comfortable and get a little spicy with this pad thai.
Sidenote: I found this image of the Thai Food delivery guy on a website called The Impersonals. It was on a letter called Dear Thai Food Delivery Guy Who Recognized Me At The Airport: Please Don’t. Please read it, it made me laugh right out loud. I’m so glad to see that in these ever-changing times, some things will always be the same: we never want to talk to the Delivery Guy. Some social codes are not meant to be broken.
[…] friend Bethany posted about this letter on her blog today (along with her own version, which is also amazing), but I just had to share it with you as […]