by K L Arena

Created on: April 24, 2008

The Bare Essentials of Flower Delivery

There are a few things you take for granted when you deliver flowers. One is that MapQuest is infallibly accurate (beware, beware!). I suppose another is that everyone answers their door properly attired. At least semi-properly attired.

I was delivering to a small (and confusing) trailer park around Mother's Day. The first time I delivered there, I got hopelessly lost and called the flower shop twice, my frustration and anxiety building with each call. I was looking for number 707. The trailers lining the road were numbered in the 600s and then jumped to the 1200s. There did not appear to be any 700s at all.

Finally, on a hunch, I jogged down and over one block, and lo and behold, the road began again. It was like it simply stopped on one side of a grassy field and picked up again on the other side. Perhaps there was some glitch in the construction plans, or perhaps a rare moth or tortoise was residing in that field and protests were so fierce during the road construction, that the developers simply decided to leave the field as is. Only they neglected to communicate such to the map people. Love how that happens.

Anyway, so once again I'm back in the strange land of trailers. I knock on the door to one of the homes, and a woman answers from inside. Her voice is muffled, and I can't make out what she says. The door opens and she appears

Completely naked.

I duck behind the flowers. The door slams closed. And again I hear the woman's voice: "You're not Marianne."

I blink. How exactly does one respond to this? "Um. No. But... I have your flowers?"

"Flowers!" she bubbles excitedly. The door opens a crack and she accepts the arrangement. "Wait a moment, and I'll get you a tip."

I hold back my thought that usually, with these things, doesn't it work the other way around? Me giving her a tip for that little, um, glimpse?

She sticks her arm out the door and hands me a couple of crumpled dollar bills. I hand her the clipboard to sign for receipt of the flowers, she hands it back, and I'm on my way.

Only when I get to the car, I realize she's signed the completely wrong line, all the way at the bottom of the page rather than out beside her name, as I'd indicated.

I put my initials and the words "long story" next to her name, hop in my car, and haul it out of the park and back to the real world. You know, where people wear clothes. Or at least check their peepholes before opening up in all their primal glory.

Learn more about this author, K L Arena.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.