Weekend Adventures

It was a good weekend to be a delivery driver. Friday was wonderfully busy, I think I did 20 runs which is about as good as one can do at my store, and I crossed the $70 plateau which is always a cause for celebration. Even the no- and low-tippers were giving that night.

Saturday was slower but still steady, and I did well again. The most interesting thing that happened wasn't on a delivery but was inside the store. I took a run around 8 to this trailer in a notorious no-tip zone. They had a big complex order with all kinds of shit on the side, they had two or three pizzas, cheesestix, wings, salads, you name it they got one of it. Well somehow in the bustle I forgot the dozen wings. That hadn't happened with me in a while but sometimes you just miss something...well anyway by the time I got there it was too late to go back and they didn't want a refund, so someone was going to have to bring the wings out to them. I knew it would probably be me, b/c no one likes doing the redelivery shit b/c it is a guaran-damn-teed no tip. I've only seen someone tip on that once in 4 years - not that you should have to, when we fuck up it's not like you should be obligated to be more generous. But anyway that's why no one wants to take it.

Well I call the store and talk to Charley and ask if there's anyone coming back out this way with another run, and if so could they please bring along my wings. Abdul was apparently the only one in the store, and I hear Charlie yell out something to him in Arabic (there is only one way to speak Arabic, and that's by yelling - you start from there and then gradually escalate until you're screaming your fucking brains out at each other) about the street I was on. "No," I hear Abdul say, and the Charley repeated it and I said "alright, I guess I'll come back and get it."

When I got back to the store Abdul was still inside working the oven, which was a little odd b/c I thought he'd be off on his run by now. I go over to where the wings are reposing on the top of the oven and as I do I take a sideways glance at his slips hanging on the wall. Sure enough, the one on top was a different direction and so if he was taking that he wouldn't be obligated to do the redelivery. But something seemed a little off so on my way back out of the store I glance over at the order list by the phone, and I see that the only two orders to come in are the one that I saw he was taking and another, earlier order which would have belonged to him, which was going the opposite direction, and which would have gone along well with the redelivery.

I knew then that he was violating the unwritten rules of our store's delivery system: he was taking two orders simultaneously that went in opposite directions, and he was doing this to make it seem as if he couldn't be bothered by driving out of his way on a redelivery.

I was pissed, but I didn't say anything right away. No one wants to have to fix someone else's mistake, and so I couldn't be angry at him for trying to avoid the redelivery, in fact I'd consciously avoided them before, as well. But I never went so far as to blatantly flaunt the rules. Of course all of this sounds silly and petty, and it is, but I only now realize this in hindsight...at the time I was steaming mad.

So I take the wings back and return to the store and Abdul comes in shortly after. He starts talking to me but I'm giving him terse answers that would communicate to anyone with a basic grasp of English that I was pissed off, but of course Abdul don't speaka tha English that well, so he completely missed it. Then he starts joking around with me, ok, this is going to require me to back up-

Have you ever seen that commercial from a year or two ago that was selling car insurance, I believe, or something like that, and which was a takeoff of an 80s metal song? There was this band that bizarrely followed this guy around and would start into this song: "Roy! Roy Roy Roy! Roy Roy Roy! He's the man, going to work, got a job got a mission...he knows one day he just may become...a supervisor!" Well anyway a few months ago when it was popular there was this guy working at my store named Danny. He was a really hyper but cool pothead, I liked him, and we talked about music and movies and stuff and got along well. He had been singing the first few words of that song while we would clean up the store late at night, b/c people got a kick out of it and laughed. One day outta the blue he substitutes my name for Roy's, and sings "Wayne! Wayne Wayne Wayne! Wayne Wayne Wayne!" It was funny and everyone liked it and it sort of became Danny's way of greeting me. Everytime I saw him he'd break into that. Anyway it didn't really bother me and people thought it was funny, so who cares?

Well Danny was subsequently fired, which is a real rarity at my store, believe me you have to be a real fuck up to get fired by James. But anyway after he'd been gone a few weeks Abdul and I were working together cleaning up the store one night and out of nowhere he breaks into: "Wayne! Wayne Wayne Wayne!..." Now if it was funny when this longhaired hippy born too late did it, it was trebly funny when this imposing six foot something irascible deep voiced Syrian with a perpetual scowl. So it sort of became a running joke, Abdul would do it occasionally and everyone would get a kick out of it.

But by Saturday night, for me at least, it was getting a little old. For one thing Abdul is a loud talker among a race of loud talkers - anyone who knows me knows I respect Arabic people a lot, but let's face it, they like to scream - and whenever he would start singing it would be like a shot went off. He would wait for the quietest possible moment and then lob that verbal volley out there. I jumped b/c it startled me at least a half-dozen times, and that can get old fast.

So on Saturday night, after he'd broken the rules and pissed me off royally, while we were together in the store cleaning up he launches into the song. He surprised me again, and I jumped a little like you do when you see a scary movie, and I said "Hallas" which means something like "enough" or "that's it." He seemed a little stunned, and I walked away to do something else. When I returned and he saw me come into view, he said prominently to Charley "Hallas Charley." He was picking on me, trying to be friendly probably, but my thought then was "it's on now bitch."

So we're going about doing our chores and he strikes up another conversation. "Why you say 'hallas' man?" he asked. "Because that song thing is getting annoying," I answered. Charley had to interpret. "Oh, ok man," he said, meticulously washing his hands - a lot of Arabs probably spend half their life cleaning themselves. "Thank you, Wayne," he says, sarcastic. I didn't respond. After a few tense moments: "Why you no say 'you're welcome?" "Because you're being sarcastic," I said. Charley again translated. He moves away, still rambling about how grateful he is for my clarity and how wonderful it is to hear the truth from me, and finally I turn and say "Abdul, why don't you just shutup, and when you need more advice you can come to me." He said something sarcastic and I said "look, just be quiet or else I'm going to say something you don't want to hear" and then I turned and said more quietly "like how you're a fucking asshole." Charley, who was working beside me, told me to be quiet b/c he could still hear me and I indicated that I didn't care, and called him a "fucking asshole" again for good measure. By now Abdul knew I wasn't joking and he shut up.

Of course things were tense for the rest of the night while he was still there. Charley, Mo, and I stayed late and shared a six pack and we talked about it, and I could tell that in his private conferences with them post-confrontation he had been really pissed at me, and rightfully so. I had let my temper get out of hand and though he had dong something wrong it wasn't that big of a deal, and when we had been talking he was just playing around until I took it to another level.

So all day Sunday I felt like a jerk. When I got there Sunday night Abdul was in the store but we didn't exchange our usual greetings and I could tell he was still angry. I pretended to be, too, but after a while I just couldn't take it anymore. After an hour or so of standoffishness and frowns I went up to him and said "Abdul, I'm sorry about yesterday, I was having a bad day (not true, but that's the sort of justification people insert into apologies) and I didn't mean what I said." He accepted my apology and said something about us being 'brothers' b/c we've worked together for four years, and that even though we may have been briefly angry at each other we would get over it. He then extended his hand and I shook it, and I said "Anna meniac yesterday" which means "I was an asshole" and he laughed as the Arabs always do when I speak their language and things were back to normal.

I was glad I apologized (it was hard, believe me, b/c part of me still thinks he bore a lot of the blame) and I'm glad things are back to normal. But if he starts into that "Wayne!..." shit again I might just have to punch him in the mouth...