Hello, my name is Megan and I am addicted to ice cream.
You would have thought that during social distancing — because visits to the store or Baskin Robbins are few and very far between — that my ice cream consumption would have diminished. But when I learned that Baskin Robbins was part of DoorDash it was game over. That’s right folks, you can have 31 flavors delivered to your door.
I am about to recount four different DoorDash experiences, none of which I am proud of, but all of which I am able to laugh at and recognize why I should aggressively pursue a Keto diet.
Encounter #1: Who needs a bag?
Since there were delivery fees with door-to-door service, it only made sense to have multiple items delivered — more bang for the buck, right? And any ice cream aficionado could tell you that two quarts are always better than one, especially when the pre-packed stuff has sweet deals. My first order was two parts mint chip and one part chocolate peanut butter (for my husband, who I have corrupted), plus a pink spoon since Baskin Robbins ice cream only tastes right with one of their pink spoons.
The alert went off on my phone — tada my ice cream had been delivered. I opened the front door and there stood three quarts piled on top of each other, no bag, no pink spoon, no receipt, all while baking in the sun! Really??? Who delivers ice cream without a bag? Or pink spoons? And leaves it in the sun? I confess it took a moment to move past the less-than-professional delivery and into a place of gratitude that I safely had my craving satisfied… and never had to get out of my pajamas. Victory!
Lesson #1: Not everyone thinks like I do.
Even though I would never deliver ice cream bagless or leave it to melt in the sun, others may. So, for me, the lesson I learned — and continue to learn — was to not be quick to judge. Perhaps the store was out of bags. Perhaps this was the first time the Dasher was making a delivery. I did ask for the delivery to be placed at the front door, and they did. Was it their fault the sun shone directly on my stoop? No. Gratitude should always be my response over judgment and trust me with that first tasty bite, all was forgotten.
Encounter #2: You have the nicest kids.
I figured DoorDash was working out their kinks, so why not give them another shot? This time, I only ordered two quarts (I really should rename my blog to Pass the Quart, Please!). Anyway, I was waiting for my delivery when I got a text from my DoorDasher. I love it when they text me directly! The text read, “You have the nicest kids.” Houston, we have a problem. I don’t have any kids, and I replied with that response. All I got back was, “Well, I left the ice cream with the kids.” Oh, great. Now I had to hunt down my treat!
I heard the littles next door playing outside in their dad’s old mustang. So, I walked up and asked the little girl if someone delivered ice cream to her. She said yes, excitedly. Perfect. I was about to take away ice cream from a little girl.
“Where did you put the ice cream?” I inquired. “Oh, in our freezer.” Good idea, until I had to break it to her that the ice cream was actually mine. She quickly went into the house to retrieve my prized possession. Several minutes passed with no sign of my little friend or my ice cream, and that’s when dad came out. Uh oh.
Turns out that the next day was dad’s birthday AND mint chip from Baskin Robbins was the family’s favorite ice cream. They thought Grandma sent it over as an early birthday surprise, and the wrong receipt in the bag with Grandma’s city listed didn’t help! After some chit-chat, it became clear that the sugary goodness was mine. Thankfully, we have really cool neighbors who could share a good laugh at the mix-up. I would like to say that I was thoughtful enough to give him one of my two quarts… sadly, I did not. Seriously?
Lesson #2: Be generous with others.
That evening and into the next day I felt guilty that I didn’t give at least one of my quarts to my neighbors. Every time I pick up ice cream — or have it delivered — I tell myself it will be the last time. Because of that scarcity mindset, I become extremely selfish and unwilling to be generous. Obviously, I had ice cream again, so would it have hurt me to sacrifice one quart? Of course not. Even in little things, I can choose to be generous. Ken asked if I was going to order a quart and send it as a birthday surprise — now that would have been the best of both worlds. I would have had my two quarts, AND I could have been generous. Next time. You know what, they are getting ready to move. Perhaps I will send them a parting quart of mint chip or two!
Encounter #3: I don’t care what you say, you did not deliver ice cream to my house!
A week or so went by and the craving monster came back with a vengeance. Still not willing to venture out, I called on my trusty friend DoorDash. I placed my standing order, tracked the delivery on my phone, and got the magical text, “Your Dasher is approaching with your order from Baskin Robbins. Enjoy your meal!” I ran to the front door to find it… nothing. There was nothing there. The app showed order complete. I got all the texts, but nothing. Then it dawned on me that perhaps it went to my neighbor with the same address but a different street. I took a stroll excited at the prospect of seeing my bag sitting on their stoop only to discover nothing was there. Time to call my Dasher.
The phone call did not go well for one main reason: I lost my cool. He swore he delivered my ice cream and I swore back that it was nowhere to be seen. He said he would look into it but it would be sometime before he could follow up with me. At this point I was livid. The ugly side came out. Ken tried to help me stay calm, but I wasn’t having it. I ordered ice cream, and I wanted my ice cream, the same way a four-year-old wanted what she wanted when she wanted it.
Since packages often end up at our neighbor’s house, I thought I would send her a message. Within minutes I got this response, “Hey! Yes, I did actually. When I got home it was sitting outside in the sun. I stuck it in the freezer and called Baskin Robbins but they couldn’t tell me anything.” Hallelujah! My lost ice cream had been found.
As I walked back to my home, I thought it would be courteous to call the Dasher back and let him know I had my delivery. But instead of kindly thanking him, I ended up yelling at him. He kept saying, “Ma’am, I told you I would call you when I got things figured out.” And I was shouting, “I am trying to tell you that I HAVE THE ICE CREAM. No need to do anything else.” He finally understood, but as I looked up from my phone, I was surrounded by an audience of neighbors wondering what all the noise was about. Clearly, not my best moment. But I had my ice cream.
Lesson #3: Everyone deserves kindness.
When I stepped back and reflected on my behavior, I was embarrassed. It was completely unfair of me to take it out on the Dasher. He was doing his best, and he made a mistake. No doubt, our complex is confusing given how many packages get mixed up. But I was so caught up in what I wanted — and in what I felt I deserved — that I failed to be kind at the moment. And for goodness sake, it was just ice cream! Not worth losing my cool and certainly not worth treating someone poorly.
Encounter #4: What the heck? This is chocolate chip, not mint chip!
This was going to be it. My DoorDash swan song before I gave it up for good. I didn’t want Ken to know I was ordering more ice cream, so I waited until he was on a Zoom call with his brothers. I placed my standard two-quart order and eagerly awaited its arrival. Half an hour went by before I heard the front gate open. I walked out to once again see bagless, spoonless ice cream that was CHOCOLATE CHIP! The wrong flavor. I couldn’t eat the wrong flavor for the finale! Who could I yell at? No one. We already learned from the previous delivery experience that yelling accomplishes nothing, and it’s not kind.
Instead, I decided to let DoorDash know that my order was incomplete. In less than two minutes I had a credit and a new order of mint chip on the way. Gold stars for DoorDash. It tasted heavenly.
The next day, I realized there was still chocolate chip in the freezer. I couldn’t let it go to waste. So, I grabbed my pink spoon and dove in… to what was perhaps the worst, mealy ice cream I’d ever tasted — a victim of freezer burn. Even Ken said it was no good. I’m usually content to eat mediocre ice cream because, well, it’s ice cream. But this was so bad I threw it away — the whole quart. Sigh.
Let’s just say the chocolate chip disaster helped to get me off ice cream for a while. Nothing like something leaving a bad taste in your mouth. Keto was looking better and better.
Lesson #4: Sometimes my choices are costly.
I will admit that ordering ice cream via a delivery service is not the most cost-effective approach. I won’t dare add up what I spent across my four experiences; I’ll just say it wasn’t cheap. And with the last order being wrong, and tasting bad, I felt the weight (literally and figuratively) of that choice.
There is nothing wrong with eating ice cream. There is nothing wrong with having ice cream delivered. But in everything, there should be moderation, and for me, there has been little of that lately. Life has been tough, and my method of coping just happens to include a pink spoon. I am learning, though, to count the cost.