An open letter to Kacy, whose Gorgonzola is in my fridge

Dear Kacy,

You don’t know me, and the only thing I know about you is that you wanted a quarter-pound of Gorgonzola this weekend. You didn’t get it. You also did not get a container of heat-and-eat chicken-spinach cannelloni, a tub of prepared beef chili and a small box of blackberries. I got all of these things because Fresh Direct screwed up your order, even though your name was clearly printed on the tub of cheese. I’m sorry.

I ate the blackberries. I’m sorry about that too. They were delicious, even though they’re out of season. If you’re into antioxidants and tasty bite-sized purple snacks, FYI, Concord grapes are still available at the farmer’s markets. I saw some when I was in Union Square scouting apples. You just have to watch out for the seeds, they’re a little trickier to eat in front of people or in the office because you have to keep spitting into your hand or a napkin.

Do you work in an office? I feel like you do. An informal survey of people who are bemused by my interest in a stranger whose Gorgonzola is in my fridge reveals that most believe you work “in a dentist’s office.” I completely disagree. Of course I googled your full name, and found a few results, but I don’t think any of them are in Fresh Direct’s NYC delivery zone and I was too busy eating your blackberries to do any further research. I think you might work in law or finance—something fairly challenging that engages your intellect. I think you live alone and that you have a nice couch.

I also feel like you have a cat and that his name is Mr. Wiggles.

What were you going to do with this Gorgonzola, by the way? Salad, I suppose, or on top of a burger? I like your attitude toward food: you have the berries (healthy), the chili (also pretty healthy, and full of red meat), the Gorgonzola (classy), the cannelloni (full-on cream sauce and sodium, exactly the sort of thing a lady might need, along with half a bottle of rose, after a long day of law or finance).

I annoyed everyone over the weekend. I kept saying “Mr. Wiggles! Where’s my Gorgonzola?”

As exciting-slash-guilt-inducing as it is to get a stranger’s food for free, the sad truth is that I am lactose- and gluten-intolerant, which means I can’t eat your Gorgonzola or the cannelloni. The chili is something I would eat, but I made a huge batch of crockpot chili last week so I am not interested in more chili. (Update: Someone ate the cannelloni. His verdict: “It was good.”)

This isn’t the first time a stranger’s food has wound up in my fridge courtesy of a Fresh Direct error. Once my roommate and I unpacked our boxes and found a 32-ounce bottle of ranch dressing—as you may know, ranch is the second-worst dressing in the world, after Thousand Island—so we were simultaneously disgusted and exhilarated. Thirty-two ounces is a lot of anything! We couldn’t bring ourselves to get rid of the ranch, even though neither of us had any intention of eating it, because who looks a gift horse in the mouth (even if that horse has the texture of thin, lumpy mayonnaise and smells like a sports bar)?

Completely unrelated, but the laundromat once gave me a red flannel pillowcase that wasn’t mine and it promptly became my favorite pillowcase. I told myself this made up for my favorite argyle socks, which had disappeared at the same laundromat a few months earlier, but of course it didn’t. Then the flannel pillowcase went to the laundry and never came back, so I like to think it made its way home to its rightful owner, or to someone else who appreciated it as much as I did.

Anyway, Kacy, I just want to apologize again for the loss of your Gorgonzola. I know how hard it can be to plan for healthy (and healthy-ish) meals when you have a demanding job and a cat to raise. I hope this mishap didn’t ruin your menu agenda for the week. If it did, I hope you took the opportunity to treat yourself to Thai takeout, and I hope you got home and opened the containers and found exactly what you ordered.