36 Minute Delivery

I made this image of the sky back in June while on a ride with Ms. Arcen at McMullen Creek Greenway. I am not sure what the particulate matter in the sky actually is.

Strange clear strong wind out of the west and north.

2401 Suttle Avenue 28208

That address was clearly labeled on one of the 6 packages that I picked up on my 1030 route yesterday. I stared at the label but I could not conjure up where Suttle Ave was. I had never been there in my experience as a courier, the physical location of this delivery may as well have been somewhere in Chelmsford Massachusetts for all I was concerned.

My client fired up the Google/Maps and we located Suttle Ave's cross roads on the right hand side of West Moorehead going out in between Freedom and HWY 74/Wilkinson Blvd/Andrew Jackson HWY. My messenger brain would then be able to ride in the correct numerical direction to get to 2401. Knowledge is power even though as I got in the elevator something just did not feel right, you know that feeling. West Moorehead beyond the I77 corridor, a place couriers don't like going especially face forward in a constant wind gust out of the west. Standing on the spin up the hill towards HWY74 every road on the right that I was seeing was not Suttle.

My client's application showed it on the right across from the WBTV Building but it wasn't there and I was all the way to 74 at that point. I belled up the 411 and was quickly connected to the receptionist at my destination. After identifying myself, I got directly to the point, "Can you please tell me where Suttle Ave intersects West Moorehead?" "Right below the WBTV Building", she cheerfully replied. "On the same side of the road?", I asked against my own will. "No, across the street from it", in a happy voice my life line answered. "That's what I thought, thanks." How did I miss it? I went slowly by and looked right at every side street on the way out, maybe the wind distracted me at the exact second I crossed Suttle. Impossible.

I rode back down Moorehead looking now on my left for what should have been on my right ten minutes earlier. The wind was now at my back forcing me downwards with powerful, almost reckless force. A head wind hurts more than a tail wind helps, unless of course you are going down hill with it pushing your back then it becomes crazy. Just after passing the WBTV Building again the ubiquitous Suttle Ave at the 2000 block finally appeared on the right. According to two sources thus far in my quest to deliver this one job that was impossible.

At least I found it which now leaves me only four blocks to the destination. With an odd number the building will be on my left, I think. All the way west/south back to HWY74 at the Andrew Jackson HWY again, 5 blocks from where I stood talking to directory assistance. I walked in the main door swinging my bag to the front allowing easy access to pull out the over sized white Tyvek marked for the recipient. At the square waist high cube in the gray foyer a dark haired woman with a familiar voice politely asked without looking up, "May I help you?"

I extended the delivery her way announcing the name of the addressee exactly as it was written on the label. The woman who was dressed in various similar colors that matched her surroundings corrected me curtly, " That is DEAN xxxxx xxxxxxxx." "Oh, I'm sorry, I did not see that on the label", I responded then asked, "Are you the one who gave me directions a few minutes ago?" She smiled and nodded three times. Just before I walked out I mentioned that Suttle Avenue was on the same side of Moorehead as the WBTV Building. With another three nods she said plainly, "I guess it is."

I made my way back to town with five jobs left over from my 1030 schedule in the bag. The wind helped me on my return trip but even still by the time I made the Square 36 minutes had expired on that one job. Time warp. The rest of the day went by with funny images of buckets' ties blowing off of their chests parallel to the street. It was as if they were being led by the silk nooses around their necks, the tip of the ties pulling them in the direction that they were wanting to go.