I am sitting on my couch watching Netflix when I probably should be reading a book, studying statistics, or tidying the living room when someone bangs on the glass exterior door of my house like he’s going to shatter it. I know it’s a guy because only dudes knock that way, but I also know it’s not our neighbor because he doesn’t knock on the door like he’s trying to break and enter.
Even though I’m the only one home, I decide to see who it is. I approach the door, and when I’m about a half of a foot away, I call, “Hello?” No answer. “Yes?” I say, a little louder. Silence.
I look through the blinds, and I make eye contact with a man with big eyes who I do not know. He’s very tall because we see eye-to-eye even though the front porch is three to four inches below the threshold.
He waves something that I cannot see and points to a truck that is blocking the right of way. I decide to flip on the light and open the door. I am glad I always lock the glass exterior door.
I see now that he is the delivery man who is attempting to drop off a package we were not there to receive the first time he came by today. The colors of his truck and his uniform match the package slip he stuck to our front door.
Internally, I bang my head against the door. If you’re delivering packages in the dark, in the rain, you obviously need to identify yourself. Say, “[Company name]. Delivery.” Two words. It’s so simple. Oh, and don’t bang on the door in a way that makes me wonder if you’re a body snatcher.
In Rachel's Words 