If my late mother could have seen what was happening in my garage this past Saturday evening, she probably would have died all over again.
You see, when I was in elementary school, my mom came to eat lunch with me one day, and the cafeteria served us peaches. I didn't like peaches, and this skinny kid named Peter came by and asked me if he could have mine when it was obvious I wasn't going to eat them. I didn't particularly like Peter either, so I said "no" out of pure pettiness, and my mom took me aside and gave me a stern lecture on how Peter was from a poor neighborhood and this was possibly the only food he ever got.
Making sure kids had enough food to eat was important to her, and even in her later years, she had me help her shop for and deliver snacks to an organization that did just that for some of our local school kids.
Back to Saturday.
I've been eating terribly lately and hoping to get back to my regularly scheduled low-carb, mostly whole foods diet now that the holidays are over, and people aren't shoving candy and baked goods in my face everywhere I turn, but last week was such a busy, exhausting one for some of us here in the news business that I decided that it'd have to wait until the weekend.
The problem with that was that I woke up on Saturday morning with absolutely no motivation to do anything, especially remove junk food from my diet. I also had an insane craving for chicken nuggets, and while I can make some pretty darn good ones myself, I didn't really want to cook either. I debated going to Chick-fil-A, but the weather was awful here on Saturday. We had torrential downpours and flood watches, plus I have an issue with the windshield wipers on my car — they currently only work when they want to, and no mechanic can seem to figure out why.
I finally decided that I'd just order some chicken nuggets from Amazon. I don't know if you know this, but you can go online and buy select grocery products from Amazon, and they typically deliver them that day. I'm not talking about the Amazon Fresh delivery service, just regular old Amazon. So, that's what I did. I'm not a big frozen nugget person, but I can tolerate the ones from Applegate. Then it suggested I add X amount of dollars of other items to get free delivery, so I added a drink and some Reese's Cups because why not do this last day of eating like crap thing right?
My delivery came sometime between 4:30 and 5:00 that afternoon. When I glanced out into the garage, I only saw a small paper bag, and I thought that it didn’t look big enough to hold everything I had ordered, but for some reason, I didn’t check it right away. When I went back, there were more bags, so I was thinking okay, that's a lot of bags, but at least I know all my stuff is here. They were kind of folded over and closed, and I went to pick them up but was shocked at the weight of it all, so I had to investigate.
The small bag had my drink and Reese's Cups, but the other bags had... someone else's groceries. There was a gallon of milk, numerous pounds of beef, etc., but no chicken nuggets in sight. So, I hurried back inside and tried to contact Amazon. I thought if I was fast enough, I might could get them to catch the delivery person who probably just mixed my order up with someone else's.
But if you've ever tried talking to an actual human at Amazon, you know that wasn't going to happen. I spent half an hour going back and forth with the stupid AI chatbot who kept insisting that my chicken nuggets were probably still on the way and that I had to wait 48 hours before I could talk to a live human or potentially get a refund.
"But it's fresh food!" I argued. "I don't want frozen chicken nuggets delivered hours later. And what am I supposed to do with all this meat and milk? It's going to ruin."
"I realize you are frustrated but our system doesn't allow for refunds or the ability to talk to an agent until 48 hours have passed."
I finally gave up, but I wasn't sure what to do with all these groceries. There was nothing in the bags that I'd actually eat. I have no use for a gallon of milk, and I know this will make some of you groan, but I only eat grass-fed beef. The other issue is that I had no place to put it. My fridge in my kitchen is broken, so I'm currently using a dorm-size one and an older one that's in the basement. (I'm likely moving soon, so I'm trying to hold off on buying new appliances.)
Finally, I texted my next-door neighbor, Steven, and asked him if he wanted it — he cooks a lot — and he said yes, so I told him I'd leave it in the garage for him to pick up.
A little while later, my dad came in and said, "An Amazon driver just dropped off more bags. I bet it's what you ordered." I asked him if Steven had come to pick up the other stuff, and he said, "I don't think so; there are just a lot of bags out there."
I went back to the garage thinking maybe, at least, my nuggets would be there, but no, the new bags were full of... ice cream. All the ice cream you could ever want — butter pecan, Neapolitan, chocolate, and various novelties. I was beginning to think there was a hidden camera around somewhere.
That would have been cute a few weeks ago when I was in the midst of my Christmas junk food bliss, but I was less than 24 hours from cutting sugar and didn't need 800 pints of ice cream. I ended up texting Steven to ask him if he wanted the ice cream too but told him he was going to have to hurry because it was melting.
He wrote back and said, "Oh, I forgot about the groceries, but now I'm at a party, so it'll be a few hours before I can pick them up...if I remember."
I tried reaching out to Amazon again, but I got the same response.
Long story a little shorter, I found myself in my garage on a dark, dreary Saturday night, filling a garbage bag with enough meat and ice cream to pack a decently sized freezer. It was physically painful to do, and all I could think about was first, my mother, who is probably somewhere watching and shaking her head and, second, the Cuban woman I wrote about a couple of weeks ago who went to a farmer's market outside of Cuba for the first time and was shocked at how much food was in one place.
Turns out, that woman could have just come to my garage.
Related: She’d Never Seen That Much Food Before: A Hard Reality From a Farmers Market
I came in, defeated, and ate the most disappointing sandwich I've ever had. All I'd wanted was chicken nuggets.
But it wasn't even just about the nuggets or even just how wasteful it felt to throw all of that food away when there are so many people would have been grateful to have it — what really made me depressed is how, in this world that's supposed to be so much faster, smarter, and more sophisticated, I didn't even have much control over the simple dinner I tried to order. And I have a feeling that a couple of other people in my area were having the same problem.
Yes, it was my choice to order rather than cook or go pick something up. I accept that. But there was no human who could help make it right. There was no customer service available whatsoever. I was stuck with a scripted chatbot and an automatic 48-hour timer that applies whether you order a t-shirt or frozen chicken nuggets.
One of my favorite health gurus, Paul Saladino, often says "convenience is the enemy of health." But I'm beginning to think it's the enemy of almost everything, and I'm taking this as my sign to do better. Faster and easier aren't always best.
And next time, I'll make my own chicken nuggets.
