I am in somewhat of a cold war with the water-delivery-guy at my workplace. This is how a typical water delivery goes.

While I’m working at my computer, I hear the delivery truck backing into the driveway.

I walk into the kitchen, grab the empty water jugs, and place them outside so water-delivery-guy knows how many new jugs to bring inside. (This saves him a trip. As you can see, I am looking out for water-delivery-guy. I have his best interests at heart.) I sit back down at my desk.

Water-delivery-guy comes inside, says “good morning, beautiful” (I know I know but I have to pick my battles here), and puts the water in the kitchen. He comes out from the kitchen and hands me the stylus so I can sign my name on his handheld device. I sign my name and we wait awkwardly for ten to fifteen seconds as the receipt prints. During this time, water-delivery-guy usually feels the need to fill the silence. He says things like “come on, come on,” “it always takes so long,” and “it’s coming out soon” (all perfect that’s-what-she-said opportunities, but I don’t go there with water-delivery-guy). After the receipt finally prints, he hands it to me and says “thanks, sweetie” (cringe) before leaving the office.

One small element of the water delivery has changed in the past year. Because we are now in the midst of a global pandemic, customers are no longer permitted to sign their names using the stylus pen. The water-delivery-guy now has to sign the name of the customer, which has created a bit of a quandary.

While I am working at my computer, I hear the delivery truck backing in. I grab the empty jugs and place them outside. Again, I make life easier for water-delivery-guy. I sit back down. Water-delivery-guy comes inside, says “good morning, beautiful,” and puts the water in the kitchen. He comes out from the kitchen and stands by my desk while I type away at the computer. Moments pass. I have forgotten that water-delivery-guy has to sign my name and he is apparently afraid to ask what exactly my name is.

I finally notice he’s waiting for me, and say, “Oh, sorry. It’s Sarah.”

He says, “I’ll have to remember that one!”

I say, “Oh no. You have to know tons of names. It’s fine!”

I make a joke about getting a nameplate on my desk like I am some sort of principal or lawyer in order to diffuse the tension that for some weird reason exists between us, and also to stall while the receipt is printing. He hands me the receipt and leaves.

The weeks go on. Each time water-delivery-guy comes in, he beats himself up for not knowing my name. When I tell him what it is, he says things like “I’ll get it one of these days” and “I knew that!” I reassure him it isn’t a problem, but he becomes increasingly frustrated. Every time I hear the truck backing up, I think “Do I tell him my name today, or should I wait and see if he says it?” I realize I am in a real catch-22 here. He gets angry if I tell him before he has a chance to guess, but he never properly guesses the name and then gets upset. I eventually decide I will tell water-delivery-guy my name immediately- before he even has a chance to guess.

I hear the delivery truck. I grab the empty jugs and place them outside. SEE, WATER-DELIVERY-GUY? I’M HELPFUL. I sit back down at my desk and tell myself today is the day. I will tell him my name immediately with conviction.

Water-delivery-guy comes inside.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He puts the water in the kitchen.

As soon as he returns, I say, “It’s Sarah,” with a smile.

He says, “I knew that I knew that,” annoyed that I didn’t give him the chance. I am being chastised for trying to help this man!

If he knew, why wouldn’t he just write it down?!

I get the receipt and he leaves.

I start plotting convoluted ways to solve the situation. Should I get one of those necklaces that says my name and hope he sees it? I could convince one of my co-workers to walk by and say “Hey, Sarah!” or “Sarah, I need those reports this afternoon” so that he hears the name without me telling him. Before I know it, two weeks have passed.

Computer. Truck. Grab jugs (haha…)

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LET THIS GO WELL TODAY. Sit back down.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

He’s struggling to sign my name.

I tell him.

He says, “I KNOW” as if I have severely offended him. BUT CLEARLY YOU DON’T KNOW, water-delivery-guy!

I awkwardly chuckle during the grueling 10 second wait for the receipt. He leaves and I am filled with relief that the interaction is over.

Two weeks later- the height of the war.

Truck. Jugs. I go to fiddle with the printer in an effort to avoid an awkward moment, thinking that If I busy myself with something it will be less painful. Water-delivery-guy walks by me. As he passes me, he says, and I am not freaking kidding you here, he actually utters the words- “Hey, T.”

????????????

I keep playing with the printer and pretend I didn’t hear him. I think, “Was he talking to someone else? Is there anyone else in the nearby area he could be referring to?” Deep down, I know he has just referred to me as T but I can’t bear to address it.

He doubles down. “I just call you T.”

At this point, I can’t avoid it. I pretend I never heard him say “Hey, T” in the first place.

“What’s that?”

“I call you T. Your name’s Tyler, right?”

My head explodes. Why even come up with a nickname if you don’t know the actual name?! He figured saying T was a safer bet? He thought, “Well if I say T and her name isn’t Tyler, it might be Taylor or Tina or Trish and then I’ll be safe”?! Yeah maybe T gave you a one-in-26 shot at this, but it didn’t solve the problem! Also if you don’t know a woman’s name, why is your first guess Tyler? I’m not saying there aren’t women out there named Tyler. I’m just saying it shouldn’t be your first guess. Maybe you should just write “beautiful” or “sweetie” on the stupid receipt since that’s what you call me! You always remember that!

Despite the explosion that is happening internally (is that the definition of an implosion?) I laugh and say “Oh no, it’s Sarah.”

He seems ashamed and yells “I knew that!” in desperation.

He signs my name and angrily hands me the receipt after ten seconds of torturous silence.

Water-delivery-guy, I’m not mad that you don’t know my name. I am mad that you are pretending you know it. I am not pretending that I know your name. I have referred to you as water-delivery-guy throughout this entire story and I’m pretty sure your name is embroidered onto your damn shirt. I am trying to help you. You are making me feel bad for trying to make things easier on you. So please, I am begging you, JUST LET ME SAY MY NAME.

Updates to come…