She had been driving for a good while that afternoon, juggling deliveries like a seasoned pro—timing the traffic 😮 reading the streets 🤔 calculating every turn 🤨
A 20-minute, $8.50 delivery, though, was an absolute dupe dang 😐
She’d checked the payout, the distance, the time—all the usual boxes, and yet, This One, she missed a small detail.
This was no simple order.
Turns out, it was a double.
Multiple deliveries usually meant more movement, more opportunity.
But what she didn’t expect was how this seemingly ordinary order would turn into an unexpected lesson in presence, choice, and a reminder of the human connections that lurk in the most unlikely places.
The first stop was smooth, easy—a chicken sandwich and drink for a customer who, with the $6.50 tip (which equaled the entire Tip for the 2-deliveries).
This first Customer seemed to have some concept that not only are we delivering your non-noms straight to your door, without making you SEE us, we are freaking driving to make it happen—Yahooza for all humans who actually understand and choose to See us by Tipping us!
We gotta take care of each other, especially when “Delivery” is an option.
Anyway 🤣 The second delivery was massive—a hundred-dollar feast of 8 large soda drinks, and a ten-pound bag of chicken food stuff.
Ginger hefted the weight up three flights of stairs (which could have been avoided had the Customer written Notes in the DD App about her elevators) with the resolve of someone who’d climbed much steeper hills in life. You Know 🥰
As she reached the Customer’s door, the universe seemed to whisper, “This is where you see a reflection of you.”
She noticed the RING doorbell, the unmistakable sign of a customer who might just be paying more attention than most.
Instead of rushing off, she stood still for a moment.
She took a breath, looked at the door, and made an unusual choice.
She wasn’t just delivering food anymore—she was delivering presence.
She marked the order as “delivered,” and paused, not out of impatience, but curiosity.
Her gut told her there was more here than just a cold transaction.
There was an opportunity to See and Be Seen.
She lingered around the corner, just a few minutes.
And then, like a stage director cueing a performer, ding!—the elevator sounded.
She decided to let it go, thinking “this customer with so little generosity must be in some serious darkness”, and walked into the elevator.
Just as the elevator doors were closing, she heard her Customer’s door open.
Not quite feeling in control of her arm, it rose to stop the elevator door from closing.
Placing her sunglasses on her beach-hat, she turned the corner.
The customer was just grabbing the 8 drinks when their eyes met.
For a moment, everything stood still.
No words.
Just the unspoken truth that hung between them.
Her customer’s face drained of color—guilt, recognition, maybe even embarrassment?
She never asked, and she never spoke.
Instead, she stepped back into the elevator, and took the ride back down to where she needed to be.
She had done what she came to do.
Not just deliver chicken, not just drop off a feast, but to be there in that moment, present, awake, and aware that this was bigger than anything the customer had ordered.
The message came later—her phone buzzed with the customer’s text: “Is there something you want to say to me?”
It was the perfect setup to vent, but she didn’t respond.
Instead, she leaned into the feeling of hope that maybe next time this Customer would lean into her own humanity.
You see, sometimes it’s not about confrontation.
Sometimes it’s about showing up, standing still, and letting the universe handle the rest.
She had made her choice—to be present, to offer kindness, to remind herself and the other person that there’s more than just transaction, more than just a cold, indifferent exchange.
There’s connection, even if it’s only for a moment.
And that’s the beauty of it all, isn’t it?
In a world obsessed with getting from one place to the next, one task to the next, one-upping the system by ignoring the obvious human, the simple act of being there—in the moment—can shift everything.
It reminds us that we don’t need to change the world in a single day, but we can change a moment, a life, simply by showing up, choosing hope, and letting presence work its magic.
So, here’s to the moments we don’t plan for, to the choices we make when we choose to be present and full of grace.
To the moments that don’t need an answer—just a look, a breath, and a willingness to believe that something shifts in us when we stop to see the humanity in the people we meet, and the humans who deliver our food, even if they don’t always see it themselves.
That’s the story she lived that day.
And it’s one she’ll carry with her, wherever the next delivery leads.