Our Ever-Fracturing, End-Stage Capitalistic World
Is giving me hives
Tonight, we called our favorite townie sandwich shop to ask if they’d finally started offering delivery on our side of town. This place has been around since the 1970s and is iconic around here.
It is well-known for delivering large, delicious, reasonably priced sammiches to drunk and/or stoned college kids who aren’t in the mood for pizza or Chinese. Our section of town, however, is relatively new and far away from the restaurant, so they wouldn’t deliver to us.
However, I wasn’t terribly surprised when the guy on the other end of the phone said, “We don’t deliver anymore. You’ll have to order through Eat Street or Door Dash or one of those.”
The end of an era.
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks,” and hung up. I delivered my husband this news.
“Bullshit,” he said. He is dead-set against paying a middleman for food delivery. He has no problem tipping a food delivery person who works for the restaurant from which we’re ordering.
I don’t like the idea of using a third-party service for food delivery, but I’m not totally opposed, either. After all, times do change, beyond our control. After initially arguing against third-party food delivery, I decided maybe I was wrong and decided to play…
