fedex frances: a flashback (and a lot of alliteration, too)

my dear and old friend, dr. siak (not his real name, but this one is a lot cooler, no?), just got engaged (that seems to be happening a lot lately), which is wonderful news for him and even better news for his betrothed, because we are all pretty sure the good doctor is going to be a tiger in the sack.

it is also wonderful news because it gives me an excuse to blog about one of my favorite life experiences, commonly referred to as "that one time i delivered packages for a day."

dr. siak, you see, brings happiness and love into the lives of others (at least the others in cottonwood heights) by delivering packages for fedex, which is all fine and good until you wake up one morning puking your guts out and can't do your route. that's when you call me and, since i only work a half-day on fridays (and this happened to be a friday), i offer to come meet you at your house (with some gatorade and saltines) and ride along with you, running the packages to the door while you slump over the wheel and try not to hurl.

seems like a pretty good plan, right? except that when i got to his house, it was pretty clear dr. siak was way too sick even to drive. he barfed in the bushes three times in the space of ten minutes. i felt so bad for him. it was also completely disgusting. anyway, siak's dad was there, too, and he came up with an alternate plan: papa siak and i would do the route ourselves! just the two of us! just the two of us who had only met once before, who knew nothing about each other and who were now about to spend ten-and-a-half hours together in a delivery van.

how could i say no?

now, let me paint the scene for you. papa and i were just in normal "street clothes," him in your usual dad-style khaki shorts and a polo, and i think i was wearing camo shorts and birkenstoks. no fancy fedex hats or shirts for us. oh, and did i mention that dr. siak's delivery van was in the shop that day so he had rented a penske van? you know, the yellow kind that people use to move? so, imagine a yellow penske van pulling up to your house, and a spry, khaki-clad grandpa springing out and running up to your doorstep, announcing he has a delivery from fedex. yeah. i think you can see what we were up against.

the first little while was a little rough. even with really detailed directions, we had close to no idea where we were going, and neither of us are super great with finding our way around unfamiliar territory. i did get to use my spanish a lot though, trying to figure out where in the hell we were and what way we should be headed. and let's not forget that papa siak and i were complete strangers, chilling in a delivery van together. it started out a little awkward, to say the least.

but, once we got the hang of the route, and each other, it wasn't so bad after all. we talked about military spending and women's roles and budgeting and family dynamics and we mastered the little package scanner and dr. siak called every hour or so to see how we were doing.

siak: how's it going, france?
(heave, heave)
me: good. don't worry about us.
siak: what are you and my dad talking about?
me: feminism.
siak: frances, please don't talk about that crap with my dad.
(heave, heave)
siak: i gotta go.

at some point in the conversation, it came out that papa siak, who is remarkably fit, teaches weight-lifting aerobic classes. a few minutes later, we drove past a gold's gym. and that's when this happened:

papa: oh! i am teaching a class at that gold's gym tomorrow morning.
me: how nice.
papa: have you ever gone to a gold's gym before?
me: no. i don't really work out in gyms.
papa: why not?
me: well, um, well, the thing is, well, it's just that i am sort of self-conscious about my body and i just, well, um, well, i just don't really like to work out in front of other people.
pause.
papa: frances.
pause.
papa: you have a very nice body.
pause.
papa: and i can say that. because i am a professional.

i don't think it is difficult to understand why this is one of my favorite conversations of all time.

the rest of the day was more of the same: we ate snacks, drank water (for papa) and diet coke (for me), got lost, got found, guessed house numbers, brought joy, coded packages, told funny stories and in general had a delightful time. until it was past 10 at night and we were still not all that close to being done. we hadn't started until one in the afternoon, you see. plus we were slow.

despite my pretty excessive whining and rapidly decreasing energy/ability to be pleasant, we decided to forge ahead and deliver every last package. although when papa rang a bell and a man answered the door in his pajamas, we decided maybe it would be better to just leave the packages on the doorstep from then on.

by 11:30p.m. or so, we were on the road home. i was exhausted, but also filled with that sense of awesomeness that comes from having worked really hard on behalf of someone else. papa siak was somehow still full of happy (annoying) energy. as we pulled off the freeway, he turned to me with a big smile on his face and said, "well, frances, i think it is safe to say that you and i are... intimate."

and so, to dr. and the soon-to-be mrs. siak: congratulations! may you be happy and intimate as well. just not with your dad.