UPS Guy by Ricki T Thues

 UPS guy - by Ricki T Thues

 

The UPS drivers are my friends. Every one of them is an interesting story.

 

My house is at the end of a thousand-foot dirt driveway. And I understand why delivery drivers might find it foreboding, especially at night. The driveway is long, it's dirt, and from the street you can't see the house. For all they know, there's a guy at the end of it with a shotgun and a chainsaw.

 

There isn't.

 

Usually.

 

The common carriers and FedEx are often intimidated. I'll come home and find a package at the entrance to the driveway, sitting in the dirt at the side of the road.

 

So I call customer service.

My irritation falls on the sounding board of policy.

“If the route looks dangerous, the driver will not proceed.”

“If the driver doesn't know if he can turn around, he will leave the package at the street.”

I understand. It's a thousand-foot dirt driveway. Anything could happen.

 

With FedEx, I can add a note to my account.

“Please drive up the driveway. It is safe. You can turn around in the paddock. There are no dangerous animals. There is no ambush. The guy with the shotgun is usually inside.”

 

Sometimes the driver reads the note. Sometimes the package is still on the street.

 

My UPS drivers are fearless.

Years ago, my new driver drove boldly up the driveway and stopped right in front of the house. I heard him get out. I heard him haul the packages around to the front door. Not having met him yet, I jumped out of my office chair, ran to the front door, and swung it open.

 

Nobody was there.

I ran around to the front of the house just in time to see the driver backing quickly down the driveway. He backed around the corner. Then he kept backing, dust flying up in front of the delivery truck. I stood there watching him disappear down the thousand-foot driveway. He reappeared at the street, swung around, and two-pointed it onto the road.

 

I thought, this guy is good.

 

The next time he delivered to my house, I intercepted him in the driveway.

“Hi, I’m Ricki.”

“Nice to meet you, Ricki.” 

“You sure are a skilled driver. I saw you back out of the driveway last time. You are fearless.”

“I've been driving a long time, Ricki. It just comes with the job. To tell the truth, this job just pays the bills; I really want to be a rodeo bulldogger.”

“That’s amazing. You really are fearless. Let me make this a little easier for you. You can use the paddock to turn around. Drive right on in. No horses in there.”

“Thanks.” He looked at his watch. “Gotta go.”

 

Phillip jumped into the big box of his UPS truck and drove into the paddock. He threw up dust, doing something between a brodie and a spinning bull ride. He dashed out of the paddock, swung onto the driveway, and gave me a rodeo wave, a hoot, and a holler.

 

I watched him disappear down the road.

I thought, I like this guy.