You Promised You Wouldn’t Touch My Humanity, Domino’s Pizza
I recently ordered Domino’s online and selected a marvelous delivery option:
The website described it beautifully:
“A Contactless Delivery prevents direct personal contact between you and your Delivery Expert.”
I loved that.
But I wondered, How will you do it, Domino’s? Don’t forget: If we see you, that’s a contact, and my son and I will be watching for you unblinkingly. How, without help from the Devil, do you expect to make a zero-contact delivery while approaching a house that’s all eyes?
Knowing giant corporations are capable of anything, my boy and I hoped for the best:
We’d hear a hardwood creak behind us and cry out in terror then spin around and see nothing but a steaming box of pizza on the floor.
The website, to insure delivery accuracy, micromanages customers by forcing them to include “Instructions for Contactless Delivery Driver.”
I wrote, “Place pizza on folding chair beside front door.” I wrote 5:30PM was the time we wanted pizza to contactlessly materialize on folding chair.
My boy and I manned the picture window and waited.
A car the color of raw hope parked in front of my house. The car wore no Domino’s insignia, so we could only pray it bore our pizza.
I said to the boy, “I pray it bears our pizza.”
“But…I can see it,” said the boy. “It’s supposed to be contactless.”
“Never forget, my son: The bigger the company, the bigger the lies.”
The Delivery Expert got out of the car, and we saw him.
But to be fair to Domino’s
These contacts were basically contactless compared to the usual person-to-person requirements:
- fist bumping