Buffalo, NY—Grubhub driver Jesse Mendoza was drawn into a verbal exchange when he failed to distinguish the difference between a side and back door at a customer’s house where he was making a delivery.
Mendoza received a request from Five Guys in Blasdell to deliver to an Abbott Road location in South Buffalo. He readily admitted the customer requested BD (Back Door) delivery, which was ambiguous since the house, which contained several apartments had a front, side and back door.
But when Mendoza received no answer ringing the doorbell he called the customer on the phone and told him he was at the BD with his food. That customer, a stalwart Nathan Peterman fan, Jack Conrad of South Buffalo, informed Mendoza that he wasn’t at the BD, he was at the SD (Side Door) and he should, “as instructed,” come around to the BD.
Once at the BD, Mendoza apologized and explained to Conrard that it has been his experience that orders requesting BD delivery are usually on the side of houses. A clearly frustrated Conrad wasn’t having it. “That’s what all you guys say, but when no one answers, it doesn’t dawn on you to go to the back of the house?”
Despite his frustration Conrad, nonetheless, pulled out a five dollar bill to tip Mendoza, but requested a dollar back to pay for the phone minutes he used to answer his call, even though he has one of those fancy unlimited family plans with twenty gigs of data. But Conrad, like an old man who snatches up a kid’s ball when it lands on his lawn, was making a point to Mendoza.
“Look,” Mendoza said, “I’m a first year law student just trying to get by. If you’re unhappy with the service keep your tip money.”
Raising his voice now Conrad said, “Excuse me, what does you being a first year law student have to do with anything? Are you trying to say you’re better than me? Because I was number #143 out of 312, South Park High School Class of 1982—and that’s a certified New York State Math/Science Regents diploma. I also should add, I earned that diploma while stopping by the stoner tree everyday. Sure, I could’ve broken the top hundred and just took a plain old city issued diploma, but I was a go-getter—a young, but higher Bill Gates. Whadya got to say to that, Mr. First Year Law Student ?”
“Congratulations, sir. Have a nice night,” Mendoza said turning to leave.
“Where are you going? I wasn’t done talking. Do you know junior and senior year I was number-one in the pitching rotation on the baseball team? I innovated the split-finger fastball. People say it was Bruce Sutter, but it was really me. I would’ve been the starting quarterback on the football team too, except for a rupture I sustained as a kid. Did you play any sports?”
“Soccer,” Mendoza yelled back as he walked down the driveway.
“Soccer? Soccer isn’t a sport,” Conrad called out. “Hey kid, where ya going? Let’s talk about this. I’ll buy you a beer at Molly’s, down the street. Let’s talk about this soccer thing.”
But Mendoza just got into 2006 Nissan Sentra and pulled away with Conrad muttering to himself about soccer not being a sport as his fries got cold.