The Air Fryer Escapade

 A Comedy of Errors on a Delivery Adventure...

Dear Readers,

Today was supposed to be a calm, uneventful day, a day of joyous anticipation. My brand-new air fryer was finally being delivered! The thought of crispy fries, crunchy chicken wings, and guilt-free pakoras filled my head as I sat at my desk, pretending to focus on writing while secretly glancing at the clock every few minutes.

As you all know, I’ve taken a proud stand against the tyranny of smartphones. Living in the dark ages with my indestructible Nokia 3310 has been a liberating experience. No WhatsApp notifications, no endless pings, no memes just peace. Honestly, being on WhatsApp doesn’t harm you, especially when nobody messages you anymore. My life has been quieter, if not lonelier, ever since.

But today, my peaceful world collided with modern chaos in the most unexpected way.

First, a bit of context: My doorbell doesn’t work. It’s not broken; I deliberately switched it off. Why? Because I value my tranquility, especially when I’m deep in creative mode, pouring my heart into my stories. But that little decision would soon set off a chain of hilarious events.

Around midday, a sound erupted that could have woken the dead a relentless banging that shook the entire house. At first, I thought a rogue construction crew had decided to demolish my door. Then I remembered the air fryer!

I sprang up from my chair, completely forgetting about my gout-inflicted leg. The sharp pain reminded me instantly, but adrenaline and excitement propelled me forward. Hobbling as fast as I could, I reached the door, flung it open, and came face-to-face with a delivery guy.

“Your parcel,” he said, in the softest, sweetest voice, like he hadn’t just tried to knock my door off its hinges.

Now, a normal person would’ve smiled and thanked him. But I was anything but normal at that moment. My first reaction was to storm past him, barefoot and limping, to scan the area. My landlord, who happened to be chatting with someone nearby, froze mid-conversation as he saw me emerge, looking like a frantic investigator.

“Where’s the fire?” I demanded, turning to the delivery guy.

The poor man looked utterly confused, blinking at me like I’d just asked him to explain quantum physics.

“Fire?” he stammered.

“Yes, fire! You were hammering like there’s an emergency!”

My landlord stared, his mouth slightly open, as if trying to decide whether to intervene or let the madness unfold. Meanwhile, the delivery guy, still processing my words, finally managed to say, “Uh… did you get a WhatsApp message?”

Now, this was my moment. Smirking like a rebellious teenager, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my trusty Nokia 3310. I held it up triumphantly as if unveiling an ancient artifact.

The delivery guy’s face was a masterpiece of emotions amusement, disbelief, and a tinge of exasperation. He glanced at the phone, then back at me, probably wondering if he’d accidentally stepped into a time machine.

“You don’t… have WhatsApp?” he asked hesitantly, his voice tinged with the kind of pity reserved for someone who’s just confessed they still use dial-up internet.

“Nope,” I said, feeling oddly proud.

At this point, my landlord couldn’t hold it in anymore. He let out a loud laugh, shaking his head as he walked away, muttering something about “only you” under his breath.

The delivery guy sighed a long, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of all the parcels he still had to deliver. “Can you just confirm your package details?” he asked, his tone slightly sharper now, as though he was fighting the urge to lecture me on the merits of modern technology.

I gave him the details, trying to suppress a grin. He handed me the parcel, muttered a quick “Have a good day,” and practically sprinted to his bike, probably eager to escape my prehistoric world.

As I carried the air fryer inside, I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. My landlord was still chuckling when I passed him, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed.

And here’s the twist: I was only home because I’d canceled my doctor’s appointment for my gout. Walking was out of the question today, so staying home had seemed like the best option. Little did I know, it would also make me the accidental star of a delivery drama.

Now, the air fryer sits proudly on my kitchen counter, a symbol of perseverance and hilarity. As Chef Gusteau Said in the Movie Ratatouille “Anyone can cook, but only the fearless can be great" I can’t wait to fire it up and embark on my cooking escapades. As for the delivery guy? I hope his next customer has a working doorbell and maybe a smartphone.

Have A Great Day My Wonderful Readers.

Jacob M