One more for the WTF list

Phone rings.

I don't recognize the number, but it's local, so I answer.

Peapod guy: It's Peapod.

Me: Uhm, okay

Peapod guy: I'm at the door.

Me: At the building?

Peapod guy: No, at your apartment.

Me: Uhm. Okay. (because really, I have a ONE-ROOM apartment and I think I might have heard. I hang up, thinking he really does mean the building, then figure, hey, maybe he can't get in. So I call the desk and ask them.

Desk lady: No, there's no pizza guy.

Me: No, Peapod. Groceries.

Desk lady: No, no grocery guy at the door. I always let them in.

Me: Huh. Okay, thanks.

Desk lady: I'll keep an eye out.

Me: Thanks.

I go back to the list o'calls received on my phone (thank goodness for caller ID!) and dial the guy back.

Me: Sir, where are you?

Peapod guy: I'm at your door.

Me: the building?

Peapod guy: No, at your apartment.

Me: Well, I don't think so because I'm at the door and have it open and you're not there.

Peapod guy: I'm at apartment 1-0-0-5.

Me: I've got the door open, no one is here. Are you sure you're in the Stratford building.

Peapod guy: Yes, 4901.

Me: Well, you're not at my apartment.

Peapod guy: I'm on the floor. Ten.

Me: I'm in the hallway. No one is here. Maybe you're in the wrong building.

Peapod guy: I'm on the 10th floor.

Me: (at this point, ready to shoot the guy in absentia) Are you sure your in the Stratford building?

Peapod guy: Maybe I'm in the wrong building.

Me: I guess so.

Peapod guy: I will be there shortly.

He just got here, but my frozen stuff looks suspiciously melty. Really really unhappy, since he was already running a full hour late, which means, hey, I got groceries at 11 freakin' p.m.

Sigh.

SRSLY a facepalm moment.