Thank God for Brooklyn Boys!

Once again, Brooklynites (some of which may also have Long Island and Carribean connections) rescued me from a crisis! The crisis put me beside myself, but the handsome, helpful, calm and can do men at DHL's Sunset Park (BROOKLYN) depot saved the day!

Some very special guests from the UK, China, Israel, South Africa, Japan, Mexico, Chile, and several other countries will be visiting with us, the Brooklyn Chamber of Commerce, Empire State Development, other New York manufacturers at the Weissman Center on Monday......and we want to show them some real American hospitality....and one of the things I am planning for them was in that box, which should have arrived on Thursday. It did not. It was supposed to arrive today. We were anxiously awaiting it all day. I have been known to freak out when my hospitality or gift giving plans are derailed, especially when it causes me to alter my theme or color scheme.....although we usually make it work some kind of way......we rip the drapes down and make the gown; we birth the baby.

The package was going to our storage facility, which closes at 8pm....we were calling them all day asking if DHL had come yet. Finally, I decided to go down there around closing time, and still no DHL. I went home to call and see what happened. When I tracked the package, I saw that they has attempted to deliver it at 7:51pm (when I was probably there or just leaving) but the facility was closed. So although I was having a Fred Sanford like heart attack, I managed to dial DHL Customer service....and begged the girl who answered to contact the driver who probably was still driving around the neigborhood. She said she could not because the facility is closed, and the package would be delivered on Monday. Obviously I had to have the package before our guests arrive on Monday. I knew that truck was in Brooklyn, and that package was in it, and we had to have it so our guests feel welcome on Monday. This girl was from Syracuse, and clearly did not understand New York City or Southern hospitality, but she did reveal the address of the DHL Brooklyn warehouse.

I knew my chances were slim, but I knew there was a chance I could intercept the truck and get the package. I was beside myself, and could barely speak Spanish or English, but somehow the car service driver got me down there.

The bay to the warehouse and the trucks glowed golden and friendly. I knew the was a a 50/50 chance security or would be called and I would be thrown out/turned away, or by some miracle they would be willing to look for it and find it. Those seemed like odds worth taking. I barged in and told the man in charge (Brian), that I'm looking for a really important package, and I know the address and the tracking number, is there anyway they would be willing to look for it for me. Although he's originally from Long Island, he responded like a true Brooklynite: "we can probably find it." I was shocked.....it was a huge warehouse.....the lady in Syracuse had assured me there was no way possible that the tracking number could ever be related to a route or a truck, although everything I knew about freight and trucking told me otherwise. He came back a minute later an calmly told me the tracking number was invalid, I must have missed a digit....which wasn't a shock since I was in a state when I left the house. He was nice enough for me to look up the correct number in my email.

While he did this, I joined the car service driver and several other DHL guys (Jose Luis, Hector, and Kenny) on the curb to update them. The car service driver had already told them that I was totally bereft over this package. I told them all the package contained something important that we needed so we can share Brooklyn Fudge with Europe, Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and the rest of the Americas. In true Brooklyn style, they immediately wanted to help. "What was the address, what was the zip, oh yeah that had to be that route..." Brian appeared with the real package seconds later.

These guys renewed my faith! It reminded me that I'm lucky enough to live in the "we can do it" capital of the world, Brooklyn, NY, where people will really stick up for you and have your back. Just like when I left my cell phone on the B69 bus, and the bus driver saved it, and I got to go down to the Jackie Gleason Bus Depot (also in Sunset Park) and meet all the folks down there to get it. Not having a phone for a couple of days or not getting a package the day I needed it were gut wrenching experiences, but both reminded me yet again what Brooklyn is about, and who Brooklyn people are.

I'm proud to be an adopted Brooklynite, even though I'm a native Virginian, which is probably a good thing for the lady in Syracuse. A native Brooklyn woman would "want to strangle huh."

See everybody at Tom's Diner tomorrow (782 Washington Avenue 11238)!