"WHOOPS"

Instead of delivering mail my dad now delivers flowers. This is a story he wrote about a little situation he got his self into. Enjoy!

I work part-time delivering flowers a couple of days a week. One day recently, I had a delivery to an area about 16 miles round trip. When it's far out, in an outlying area we call and make sure someone will be home. I called the phone number listed and could tell it was an elderly lady that answered. I identified myself and told her that I had flowers for her and asked for directions to her home. She told me she lived at 106 Cedar Street and told me how to get there. "It's right where those yellow barrels are beside the road. Turn right there on Cedar St. and come down to my house". I asked if her house number was where I could see it? "Yes." was her reply. As I approached the area, I easily spied the yellow barrels and the street sign. I turned right and drove down a dirt lane. The sign 106 was posted on the big oak tree . I turned in the driveway and pulled up in front of a trailer. There is a pickup truck in the yard and she had told me she had a little dog, but he would not bite. I could see a little dog sitting behind a plexi-glass door. Flowers in hand, I went to the door and knocked. The little dog just sat there and looked at me, no barking, just watching me. Not receiving a reply, I knocked two or three more times. Still no reply. I went back to my van, and dialed up the lady on my cell phone, and got a busy signal. I thought to myself, she must be way back in the back of the trailer on the phone and can't hear me. So I went back to the door and knocked very hard. The little dog just sat there and continued looking at me. Checking the screen door, I found it unlocked, so I stuck my head inside and call out, "Florist with your flowers." Still no one came. In all the waiting, I notice the coffee table, is only two steps from the door, so I eased in, placed the flowers on the table and eased out. As I was driving out the dirt lane, I called her on my cell phone to let her know I had left the flowers. When the phone rang, she answered right away and I told her I had left the flowers on her coffee table. She says, "I don't see any flowers". I asked her, "You do live at 106, don't you?" She said, "No I live at 105 Cedar St." OOPS! I quickly put the van in reverse and returned to the trailer where I had left her flowers. At the door, the little dog again watched me. I knocked, open the door and stuck my head in, still no one answered, so I eased in, retrieved the flowers and eased out, worried all the while, that the little pooch will run out the door. Relieved that I have the flowers back, I drive across the street to 105, where the little old lady and her little spotted dog are waiting on me. She was walking with the aid of a walker, so she ask me to sit them on 'her' coffee table, which I did, while trying to keep an eye on her little dog. He was all over the place, bouncing off chairs and sofa and barking like crazy. I apologized for the delay and told her what happened and everything is just fine. Mission accomplished, at last. Driving back to the shop, I began thinking what had just transpired, and reality kicks in, as I realize I could have been shot as a prowler for trespassing. But in this great nation of ours, a lot of people still feel free enough to leave their doors unlocked. Life is very interesting at times.

Billy S. Crenshaw