Days of Gratitude, day 19: The Great Snowball Fight of 2015

Super Bowl Sunday is like Black Friday for delivery drivers, and today was no exception. It is one of, if not the, the busiest day of the year for us.  I have to take my silly hat off to our crew- we nailed it.  700+ orders and only one mistake.  Everyone working together like a well-oiled machine.  No bullshit, no drama, just doing it.  Getting it done.  It was refreshing.

I found out one of my fellow drivers is moving away.  She is heading down to Georgia.  I rather liked her, although she had a little bit of a cuckoo-for-cocoa-puffs side.  She’s only 18, doing a job that can be scary and dangerous at times.  You kinda have to be a little crazy to do that, right?  As usual, I was the last to know because despite having a shaved head, I have nothing else in common with Lord Varys.  I am terrible when it comes to the gossip mill at my job, because I really just don’t care all that much.

After the Patriots avoided losing the Super Bowl by the skin of their chinny-chin chins, the snow began to really come down, and by the time clean-up was over there was a good 1.5 inches of wet snow covering our cars.  As the last of the closers, drivers and kitchen staff alike, filtered out into the cold night, something magical happened.

A snowball fight broke out.  Instantly, we were all six years old again, awkwardly hurling snowballs at each other, forming alliances to gang up on one person, only to betray our allies for the cheap thrill of seeing the shock on their face when the snowy projectile explodes across their chest.  One of my throws missed my intended target but hit another, right at the top of his jacket, sending rivulets of freezing water down the back of his shirt.  The laughter and mirth was just so genuine.  It was a real moment that wouldn’t have happened any other time.

Most of us closers have been at this place more than a year, except for the driver who is leaving and one other.  When you work in close quarters in a job that can be high-pressure, fast-paced, and outright stressful at times, you form bonds.  You become a sort-of pseudo-family.  You may not even like each other at times but as you grow together, you learn how the others are just as they learn you and if you stay long enough, you become one with the restaurant.  For us, the snowball fight capped off a long, relentless day that really tested our ability to work as a team, and we came through.  It was a great way to blow off the remaining energy and steam so we could go home and crawl under the blankets while the snow continued to fall.  Moments like this are among the fondest things to remember, and I am thankful for it.



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