CJ's World

I’m referring to food delivery, which I got a little addicted to during a time of recovery. I don’t recall how it all started, either bad weather or being under the weather, but I’ve been amused by the substitutions chosen, and pleasantly surprised by the polite delivery people.

This time, the conversation went a little like this:
D (delivery person): I need to see your ID
M (me): Oh, I can show you the online receipt
D: No
M: Oh, you need to make sure this is the right address, I can find something.
D: No
M: OK, what do you need?
D: To see your ID
M: Well, I can assure you this is me and this is my delivery
D: I need to see your ID
M: OK, what would satisfy you?
D: Your ID
M: Tell me what you accept
D: Your driver’s license
M: My driver’s license. OK. What for?
D: Adult beverage
M: I didn’t order any
D: I can’t leave the delivery without your ID
M: OK (giggling) It’s been a long time, in fact many decades since I’ve been carded.

Still puzzled, I look through my bags and see my Club Soda. I deduce it’s found on the same aisle as the adult beverages, and have a good laugh.

The moral: Beware what you order, and be prepared to suffer the consequences.