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The Szechuan Taxi
by Dave Bealer
People who live in genuine rural areas should probably skip this
article because you won't understand it.
What's that? You don't know what constitutes a "genuine rural area?"
Alright, if you can pick up the telephone and have a pizza delivered
to your home, you DO NOT live in a genuine rural area.
What kind of definition of genuine rural area is that? An accurate
one. I grew up in a genuine rural area in northeastern Pennsylvania.
The closest pizza delivery place would not deliver to our house.
They would deliver to a parking lot a quarter mile away at the bottom
of the hill, but they would not set foot (tire, actually) in our
village.
Not that it was a dangerous village. It was just that the parking
lot at the bottom of the hill was the end of their range. The pizza
shop was six miles away from the parking lot, and six and a quarter
miles away from our house. Some marketing major at the pizza shop
had decided that it made sense to extend their delivery range two
miles through sparsely populated countryside to the entrance to our
village, but not another quarter mile INTO our village. So the 300
people of our village had to cool their heels in an empty parking lot
if they wanted pizza delivered NEAR their homes (the parking lot
belonged to a defunct business and was typically empty because all
300 people in the village rarely chose to order pizza at the same
time).
The result of all this was that we always went to pick up the pizza.
We figured that driving six and a quarter miles to pick up the pizza
was less aggravating than sitting around a cold, dark (but safe)
parking lot waiting for a pizza delivery person who was always
running late. We knew for a fact that the person was always late
because we occasionally had pizza delivered while visiting friends
who lived within the magic six mile limit.
Now, are we clear on who lives in a genuine rural area? Good. Maybe
we can get on with the point of this story.
Home food delivery is a matter of extreme importance to people living
in urban and suburban areas. Even realtors have begun to recognize
this phenomenon. Remember how homes have long been listed in the
classified "for sale" ads with notations about the wonderful school
district which serves the area? These days you can find homes
expected to attract childless singles or couples listed with the
number and types of home food delivery establishments that serve the
community.
Now that I live in a major urban area, there are literally dozens of
pizza delivery places competing for my business. The coupons these
outfits pay students to stick on my car windshield and the front door
of my house each year could paper all the walls in my house several
times over.
One of the major factors in the decision to purchase my current home
was the Chinese restaurant a mile away that actually DELIVERS.
Imagine that! Not just pizza and subs, but food that actually
contains mono sodium glutamate, delivered to my door!
A couple of years ago I found out exactly how useful this kind of
thing can be. I placed a carry out order with the local Chinese
restaurant, then went to do some shopping. The plan was to pick up
the food on the way home. The trouble started when the car wouldn't.
The car wasn't going anywhere, and it was a cold winter night.
In a rare moment of inspiration, I carried my groceries one block to
the Chinese restaurant, walked in, and changed my carry out order to
delivery. If you think ordering without numbers in a Chinese
restaurant is an adventure, you should have seen this attempted
conversation. It's a good thing these people knew me as a regular
customer. Actually, they took it well. They didn't even call the
police. Eventually the game of charades ended when they realized I
didn't have a car. They stuffed me in the aged, rusting econo-box
they use for deliveries. Amazingly enough, the Szechuan Lo Mein,
wonton soup, my groceries and I were delivered in good shape. I
tipped the driver unusually well that night. {RAH}
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Dave Bealer is a thirty-something mainframe systems programmer who
works with CICS, MVS and all manner of nasty acronyms at one of the
largest heavy metal shops on the East Coast. He shares a waterfront
townhome in Pasadena, MD. with two cats who annoy him endlessly as he
writes and electronically publishes Random Access Humor. He can be
reached at: FidoNet> 1:261/1129 Internet: dave.bealer@rah.clark.net