Crazy by Design - The Coconut Chronicles: Two Guys, One Caribbean Dream House - page 147

“Actually our place is on an island off the coast of Puerto Rico,” I countered, determ-
ined to burst his Southern-fried bubble.
Surely that would give him pause. But not a bit of it. “If Federal Express goes they-ah,
we can get you yo roogs.”
I'd heard this before, too. Americans' faith in Federal Express is almost touching in its
unshakability. It's right up there with fad diets and tax cuts (or a combination of the two).
I'm sure FedEx is a perfectly dependable company in the forty-eight contiguous states.
And for all I know, the residents of Alaska and Hawaii swear allegiance to the FedEx flag
on a daily basis.
But we had learned the hard way that FedEx in Puerto Rico is a very hit-or-miss sort of
enterprise, dependent on the whims of its lackadaisical local staff.
“ FedEx isn't all that reliable on Vieques,” I remarked.
This elicited a hearty belly laugh.
“I'm sure they can find yo little hacienda,” he gurgled merrily.
“I wouldn't bet the farm on it,” I went on. “We don't even have a street address.”
There followed a pause so pregnant it needed an obstetrician.
“Uh, how's that?”
Got him. Or so I thought.
“That's nothin',” he drawled. “I grew up in a house that wadn't even on a road—just
plopped down in the middle of a big ole cotton field.”
“But,” I continued, a hint of desperation in my voice, “ FedEx will NOT deliver without
a street address.”
I could almost hear him sipping his mint julep.
“You all have a sayul phone, dontcha?” he responded smoothly. “They'll just call you
once they get theyah and you can tell them how to get to yo place.”
“But there won't be anyone at the house to sign for the rugs,” I tossed out wearily, mak-
ing one last attempt to inject a note of reality into our increasingly bizarre dialogue.
“Not a problem, my yoong friend, I'll just check the bawks that puhmits delivery
without signature.”
By this point I was completely worn down. He could have told me FedEx delivers to
Jupiter and I would have happily concurred.
☼ ☼ ☼
FedEx never called me.
And two weeks later I got a sheepish call from Foghorn .
“I'm afraid I have a big ole dollop a' aig on my face.”
“Excuse me?” I said, suspecting that I was the victim of a prank call.