As a society inundated by international trade, consumerism and online shopping, we require the services of transport and delivery agencies. We expect in return for our patronage, a qualified individual which will promptly, safely and unabashedly handle, transport and deliver our items, goods and packages. However, in the era when burger flippers want $15 an hour, these people saddled with the responsibility of potentially hundreds of thousands of dollars of merchandise refuse to be so gentle and humble. It seems there is a continuing downward trend of work ethics in many industries in the United States. Between liberals wanting an unqualified exchange for services, Immigrants/migrants taking jobs Americans could otherwise have, and outsourcing of jobs to other countries, it’s no wonder work ethics are on a drastic decline. That, I feel is why this happened to me today.
Now, I’ve taken the time to write this up – this is partly due to my complete and unsatisfied annoyance at this FedEx driver. However, I couldn’t concentrate on my work if I tried to. I’m left with feelings of confusion, anger, betrayal and cannot focus on anything but these events. Thankfully there was no visible damage to the packaging, however, I have yet to fully inspect the product and am unsure if it is broken.
The events occurred about 10 O’clock am, 30 November 2016 in Florida.
I’m sitting at my desk, next to a front-facing window where I can hear the door bell and see the road/driveway. I hear my doorbell ring, and look out the window to see a FedEx van. As I go down the stairs to retrieve my package, I see nothing sitting on the front patio through the front door windows. Thinking maybe it’s not the package I was expect but something much smaller, I opened the door and looked around – nothing. So I look at the FedEx truck, and see the driver removing a hand truck. At this point, new package excitement is gently jogging through my veins. (You know the feeling, it’s almost like Christmas morning as a child, but you already know what you’re getting)
I asked the man “Hey, what’s up?” being my southern polite self. He responded with “I’ve got a big package for you, might want to go through the garage, yeah?” This found me at odds. Why does a delivery driver care how I move my package from outside to inside? Why would the garage help at all, it has the same size door into the house as the front door? Does this guy want to scope out my garage!? It’s none of his business what’s in my garage. So I tell him, no and that it’s going to the front door. He insisted again I open the garage. At this point I tell him unconditionally “You asked me a question, I answered it. It’s not going in the garage, it’s going to the front door.” Still trying to remain polite, but firm in my response. I know it’s quite possible he didn’t understand me previously and wanted to make sure he understand what I was saying.
At this point, I’m beginning to get annoyed however. I shouldn’t be out in my driveway discussing where my package is to be delivered. There are no instructions and the defacto default of “Front door area” should be his main concern. I should not have had to request this, nor require it from him. I was not asking for anything out of the unusual, or anything potentially dangerous, illegal, illicit or otherwise wrong. However, I’m willing to brush it off as maybe I’m misunderstanding him. Well, his next words made it very clear to me that he should not be working the job he’s working. Maybe he’s normally a really nice, well meaning and centered and balanced person. Today, however he was not.
As I stood in my driveway, considering the ethics of this man, pondering his fascination with my garage and why he wouldn’t have chosen to simply drop off my package as any other normal package, I watched. Indeed, I watched this man, who for no other reason than not getting his way, began to through a tantrum in front of me. I watched him throw one small package (literally, throw, though possibly more of a toss) back into the truck, and then forcefully shove another, larger package (Quite possibly someone’s new LCD TV, I didn’t get a chance to read the box clearly, however the image appeared to be of a TV) off the top of what I quickly realized what the package being delivered to me. He did this with such force the package audibly bounced off of something towards the front of the van (I could not see what it hit) and cause what sounded like several other packages to fall off stacks and racks.
When I was done being shocked by this man’s behavior with other people’s property, which they presumably worked for the money in which they paid for these items, he spoke again. And his words damn near floored me.
“Are you going to give me a hand with this?” – as if I was in any way expected to help this man perform the normal duties of his position as a FedEx delivery driver. At this point, I lost it. I completely and utterly lost it. However with the help of my girlfriend over the last year, I have been learning to better control my actions, words and thoughts towards situations which otherwise boil my blood. So, I found “it” again. At least for one sentence. So I calmly, yet very firmly, and with a hint of agitation told him “No, I will not. That is your job.” And began to walk inside. His response was then “Yeah, ok, but I’m not responsible for this!” – and this is where the only way I would not have lost my composure was if God himself would have come down out of the heavens and slapped this man silly. Perhaps I was a bit liberal with my vocabulary, perhaps I was a bit rude, perhaps this person needed a blunt and crass response from a customer to wake him up. Regardless, what I said was said, and was said out of anger and dissatisfaction with this man’s service. Maybe it isn’t as dramatic as that. My reply, and I honestly feel like I still did a good job controlling myself. Had I been from California, I may have opted to take a squat and sling fecal matter at this man. Instead I yelled at him these words “Yes, you fucking are, it’s your fucking job!” I proceeded to enter my house, and lock the door and yell profanities because I didn’t want to end up with the Sheriff’s office visiting me.
As I walk up the stairs in the foyer, and watch as he begins to throw my package around into my bushes, on the concrete pad and otherwise be as abusive as he can be, I feel the urge to yell at him more, however I don’t. Rather than continue to cause issue, I stand in the stair well, waiting for him to walk back to his van, so I can go outside to retrieve my package. As I open the door, he looks around the back of the van at me and calls me an asshole. After moving my package into the house, I turn around flick him off and close my door, locking it.
Was my actions completely social? No. Should I have perhaps behaved more socially? That’s what is generally agreed upon. However, this man should not have called me out, should not have put me in that position, and should not have his job any longer. Unfortunately I do not have this man’s name, nor vehicle number. However, Enrique over at @FedExHelp on Twitter, did ask me for more information. I have supplied this and yet have no answer as to what they will be doing. Below is a screenshot of the request I received from @FedExHelp. My hopes began to brighten when I seen these requests, however after almost half an hour without a response to the information I provided, I feel the reach-out was more of a reach-around and “good will gesture” with an end result of no one doing anything about this situation, or this employee.
I do hope FedEx can make this right. I also hope my plants were not irrevocably harmed, my item not damaged internally, or for the sake of others that the packages which were abused by this man were also delivered unbroken.
UPDATE:
FedEx has escalated to station management, who will be calling me in a couple of hours.
Thank You Enrique!
(I will continue to update as pertinent)
