When I was a little kid, the Charlie Chip truck made regular stops at my grandparents’ house. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. The local pharmacy also made deliveries, and the knife man stopped by on occasion. Door-to-door services were not exactly common, but they weren’t entirely uncommon either.
As a child, I found it incredibly exciting that someone would stop by the house offering large tins of potato chips. Though my parents and I lived a little over two hours away in the same state, the Charles Chip man never came to our house! So, to young me, it was quite a treat. The older I got, the less time I spent at my grandparents’ house. We moved to a much larger town several states away; so, I’m not really sure when the big yellow truck quit stopping by. All I know is that, as distance and time grew between me and these deliveries, the more unusual it seemed that this ever happened at all.
Somewhere along the way, Stranger Danger killed all possible joy of door-to-door sales. These days, many deliveries come to our house, but they’re always ordered. So, imagine our surprise when a man knocked on our door this morning selling, of all things, meat!
Jamon? Salami? Salchicha? Is good!
Uh, I’m sure it is…but years of skepticism about anyone showing up at our door selling anything, much less food, prevented RF and me from taking advantage of this delightful service. We were just as wary of a similar man who offered to climb our coconut tree in Belize and deliver the meat and water to us; though, we did brave this offer. I guess there was something about watching him in action that made it seem less threatening. Cured meat, however, that’s an entirely different story! Or, is it? Probably not. Yet, stories (urban legends?) of razors in apples and acid-laced candy planted a giant seed of suspicion many years ago, such that I cannot now trust what now are likely as legitimate of offers as Charles Chips.
Sad. Especially since I could really go for some tasty Ibérico or Serrano right about now.