Old school

Apr. 27th, 2017 05:04 pm
vicarz: (Default)
[personal profile] vicarz
Oddly when I arrived home from picking up a package
at the most run down Best Buy I've ever seen
there was a package on my porch. It was strategically placed behind my porch brick pillar, but I didn't recall ordering anything. It wasn't my name and but it was my address...only on 10th Street.

I tried to look up the phone / name online, but nothing came up.

I walked the package over and it was an old row house like mine. It was beside a renovated place with a gas light burning in a lantern outside. It was so old the vestibule was still there and mostly still tiled, with a storm door on the outside. It smelled of dog and cigarettes.

I knocked. Tiny yipper dogs barked for a long time before an old black woman opened the door. She must have looked through the peephole first, right? I was still dressed from the gym. I showed her the package and she confirmed her address - but it wasn't her or her package. However, then she said "Wait a minute, I'll be that's my granddaughter...she's always ordering things here for other people..." So she picked up her land-line phone (cordless!) and called her. She invited me in !?

To the dismay of one and joy of the other dog I stood in the hallway and closed the door behind me. I looked the place over - and it was everything I ever wanted in a grandma house. The carpet was old and literally dogged. The pocket doors were still in, as were many other original details. Pictures of family were everywhere. So this was a grandma house with grandma in it - hope she stays there another 100 years.

It seems her granddaughter confirmed the package was hers, and grandma hung up on her fast. She thanked me and here I am writing about it. It's just, I talk about grandma houses, and this was it with her in it. Also, the anti-gentrification rants about af-amer families? Well this was one.

No point or anything - I used to write about little experiences like this. I didn't even mention the guy in the gym who smelled like mildewed cheese...

Date: 2017-05-08 01:19 am (UTC)
railwaymadness: (Default)
From: [personal profile] railwaymadness
Bizarre! But I guess families do have different concepts of acceptable behavior. But getting *other people's* stuff delivered to your grandma's house? What kind of contraband are we talking?

How to get packages is near the top of my list of concerns above moving in to the city. Sounds like a complete pain ... particularly if they aren't even going to be delivered to the right address in the first place.


vicarz: (Default)

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