I had a craving: fried chicken sandwiches from Fuku, David Chang's new chicken joint. The website said they'd be closing in thirty minutes, and I knew there was no way to get across the Williamsburg Bridge before the doors were locked. I launched Postmates, typed in the request: 2 Chicken Sandwiches, and hit Get It Now. John accepted my request.
A few moments later the GPS showed John was at the Fuku. It probably smells great in there. Some 10 minutes later my phone buzzed again alerting me that my prize would be delivered in 14 minutes.
I stopped tracking and went back to laying on the floor. Moments later the neighbor's dogs started barking. They always bark.
30 minutes must have passed before I looked back down at my phone, which now displayed 'Delivery Complete' - huh?
There was no knock at the door, and no bag from Fuku in the hallway. No sign of John, and no delicious chicken thigh sandwiches. I went to the lobby. The doorman tells me no, no packages for 5B, but someone did just deliver food to 5C. The neighbors with the dogs.
Postmates tried to call John, but he's AWOL. They refunded me, but that's not the point. I'm pretty certain that 5C got a knock on their door – the dogs went wild – and John said: Delivery! Great! Thanks!, they must have said.
Who does this? I bet their sitting on their couch eating my chicken sandwiches. Are they questioning this? Do they think a chicken fairy decided to shower them with delights this afternoon? Why wouldn't they politely reject the delivery? "I think you have the wrong person." Instead, Christmas came early and they didn't think twice. Totally absurd.