Dale Dawge, Delivery Man
Dale got the call giving him instructions for the pick-up.
“Got it. I’m rollin’,” he said, and five minutes later he was on the road.
He pulled up to the Costco right as they were opening their doors for the day. He flashed his card to the greeter at the entrance and headed straight for the paper goods. Along the way, he flagged down the first employee he saw who looked like she could operate a pallet jack proficiently.
“Excuse me, uh—”
“Lori. Those paper towels that are on special—how many pallets of them do you have on hand?”
“Probably, eh, ten or so.”
“Excellent—I’m going to need four of them. Can you help me with that?”
“Super. I’m going to go pay for them, and then I’ll bring my truck around. I’ll meet you out front.”
Dale headed for the registers and smiled, remembering that this is how he got his nickname. For the past few years, he had worked almost full-time picking up all kinds of items from wholesale clubs and grocery stores and the like and, for a nominal service fee, delivering them to people throughout the tri-county area who were unwilling or unable to pick up the items themselves.
He had bought an old bread truck for these jobs, which had turned out to be a fantastic investment; he was always amazed at how much he could cram into the thing.
As were his customers, one of whom—when Dale stopped at his place on a similar paper towel run about a year ago—had marveled at all the rolls stuffed into the truck, exclaiming, “Look at you! The “Bounty” Hunter, am I right?”
The name stuck, and had somehow spread to his other customers. Dale was fine with that; he had a sense of humor.
But it did kind of bother him the way some of his customers had decided to extend the joke. He understood why, and he considered himself a patient person, but he was getting kind of tired of explaining to them that his last name, Dawge, was pronounced “daw-zhuh”, and not “dog”.