It was dark already when I hit the source of tonight’s blog entry. I was halfway through my night. I handed the address of the next delivery to the lady who lives in my phone. I checked the checkered flag on her map marking where I was headed. Something looked funny. Then I saw why.
I deliver to quite a few hotels. One in Omaha is shifty to me. Well, several in Omaha are shifty to me. This one shifts the most in my book. Even the lady in my phone has me go around the back to deliver pizzas. I tell her every time that there is no door back there. She never listens to me.
I pulled up and parked. (Parking at hotels make me feel fabulous. Best parking in the place. I’m on a mission and it’s expected; pizzas are valet-parking important. But I digress.)
I hopped out and moved through the automatic doors. The smell of continental breakfast and chlorine hit me in the face.
Every delivery to this hotel has been different. The people are often awkward and rushed. They spend little to no time at the door. Tonight was no exception to the oddity. It was two Hispanic young men who weren’t even in the room. I had to call them. They met me there. One was clean cut and wearing about $400. The other young man wore a baggy hoody, super baggy pants and flat bottom shoes; I’d say $80, mostly in the shoes. He had a well pronounced belly. He didn’t say anything. He just stood silent and smelled like weed.
A flurry of assumptions crossed my mind about them. I picked one. I assumed they were brothers traveling through.
I handed over their pizza with a smile and thanked them for the tip.
I have no idea what any of these people are doing when I go there. The body language, the general atmosphere. It all seems so weird. I don’t know whether these people are having affairs, or selling drugs. Or doing drugs. Or researching an Ebola cure. Maybe traveling through or getting jobs. Maybe they are just getting away. Heck, they could be studying bedbug behavior. Or studying the effects of THC on bedbugs. Maybe they just like the place!
I thought about my assumptions as I left. How many of my assumptions are right? How far am I off? How many of their stories are weirder than I could ever imagine?
The truth is more complicated. When I learn the truth, it is most often more tame. But that tameness is lame. Tame assumptions are less entertaining.
That is a nasty truth. Tame assumptions ARE less entertaining. They tickle our natural desires for drama.
Snap. I just realized. My thoughts just then were as bad as most mainstream media. Nay, worse. My thoughts were becoming a news show host. Inflammatory. Sensational. Anything to get ratings.
I repented and buried my head in work for the rest of the night. ($46. A nice pull for a Monday. It wasn’t truck night but there was a rush at the end, so I still ended late.)
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: delivering pizzas to get out of debt goes so much deeper than dollars and cents. I find myself learning lessons that are invaluable. Like about how much I assume. Realizing this teaches me how judgmental I am of others. It helps motivate change.
There’s another struggle. It’s hard not to make assumptions about what other people might say about myself and our family. Like Dave Ramsey likes to say, if people start making fun of you, you’re doing something right. But that hasn’t happened much yet. Maybe it has started behind our backs.
I’m ok with that, if so. It sure beats living broke, in debt and hopeless. Or worse: broke, in debt, hopeless and lying to myself about it.
I’ll keep writing about the change. I will bring good news to folks in bad situations. Because you and I? We can DO this. We can kill our debts and win as stewards of the finances we’ve been given by man and Heaven.
And we can do it without the talking heads. And without BEDBUGS. YICK.
ROE INTENSE
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