Can’t Believe This Is The Company That Came Up Trumps

(I recently moved to a nice, but relatively expensive apartment community. Craving takeout, I order food from one of the many new options I’ve yet to explore. Some time later, my doorbell rings three times, followed by door knocks to the beat of shave-and-a-haircut. I open the door and am greeted by the delivery driver, a Caucasian male in his late twenties, pacing in front of my door.)

Driver: “Can you believe what they did?”

Me: “Er, sorry?”

Driver: “They sent me out without an address. I need an address to give you your food! Is that where you work?” *he points at the logo on my shirt, which is from a bike tour*

Me: “Uh… No.”

Driver: “They’re idiots.” *he hands me a receipt with no line* “Sign this.”

Me: “Where?”

Driver: “Anywhere; just sign it.” *touches my forearm* “What’s that?”

Me: “A tattoo?”

Driver: “Uh, duh.” *he takes the receipt* “You know, I’ve been waitlisted for these apartments for years, but they let all these immigrants live here. I hope Trump does something about them soon.”

Me: “Right.”

Driver: *hands me my food and turns to walk away* “I can’t believe those idiots.”

(In between his questions, he kept trying to peek inside my apartment. As soon as he left, I closed and locked my door, and made a mental note to never order from that place again!)