# "I'm a Driver for a Food Delivery App. There's a Reason We Avoid Certain Addresses" Creepypasta

An episode of [CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio](https://invisiblenetwork.ai/podcast/1492008134), 18 Apr 2025, 28 min.

Audio: https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/65619921/i_m_a_driver_for_a_food_delivery_app_there_s_a_reason_we_avoid_certain_addresses_creepypasta.mp3

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## Transcript

[0:02] Speaker 1: I've been driving for a food delivery app for a
[0:04] Speaker 1: little over two years now. Nothing glamorous, just one of
[0:09] Speaker 1: those apps. So you tap a few buttons, grab a
[0:12] Speaker 1: paper bag, and drop it off at someone's doorstep. Quick
[0:17] Speaker 1: money if you don't mind the gas prices and the
[0:19] Speaker 1: occasional stress induced ulcer. I treated it like a side hustle,
[0:25] Speaker 1: deliver a few burritos, maybe a Boba tie or two,
[0:29] Speaker 1: and be home by midnight. But after I got laid
[0:33] Speaker 1: off from my last real job, it became my main gig.
[0:39] Speaker 1: The shift never technically ends. You just drive until your
[0:43] Speaker 1: body gives out while your tank hits empty. Most of
[0:48] Speaker 1: it's what you'd expect, fighting for decent tips, cursing at
[0:52] Speaker 1: building numbers that don't exist, or walking up five flights
[0:56] Speaker 1: of stairs for an order that says leave at the door,
[0:59] Speaker 1: do not knock in all caps. Some instructions get stranger
[1:04] Speaker 1: than others. I once had a guy ask me to
[1:07] Speaker 1: leave a sushi quote in the shadow of the mailbox.
[1:12] Speaker 1: Someone else left a note that said, if the front
[1:15] Speaker 1: door opens by itself, just leave the food and walk away.
[1:19] Speaker 1: Do not acknowledge her. I left that one on the
[1:23] Speaker 1: welcome mat and didn't even look back. I wasn't about
[1:27] Speaker 1: to find out if it was a prank or not.
[1:32] Speaker 1: A lot of us drivers talk. There's an unofficial group
[1:36] Speaker 1: chat we use. Nothing huge, just a few hundred regulars
[1:41] Speaker 1: who post about traffic, bad restaurants, and weirdest stuff. The
[1:45] Speaker 1: app doesn't warn you about loose dogs, fake addresses, customers
[1:50] Speaker 1: who tried to pay cash and then grab the food
[1:53] Speaker 1: and bolt. Some drivers even swap screenshots of creepy houses
[1:58] Speaker 1: or instructions that feel off. Most of us chalk it
[2:03] Speaker 1: up to trolls or lonely people looking for attention, but
[2:09] Speaker 1: there are certain addresses that come up in conversation more
[2:13] Speaker 1: than others once that make everyone go quiet. You learn
[2:19] Speaker 1: pretty quickly which places the skip and which ones to
[2:24] Speaker 1: never ask about at all. There's one address that kept
[2:29] Speaker 1: showing up more than any other. Same house, same street,
[2:35] Speaker 1: always boosted, always ignored. Every time I opened the app
[2:41] Speaker 1: late at night, there it was highlighted like some cursed
[2:46] Speaker 1: loot drop, promising three times the usual payout. Ten bucks
[2:51] Speaker 1: turned into thirty, thirty into fifty, and still no takers.
[3:01] Speaker 1: The first time I noticed it, I asked in the
[3:03] Speaker 1: group chat. I dropped the pin said something like, anyone
[3:09] Speaker 1: know what's up with this place? A reply came through,
[3:15] Speaker 1: don't seriously. The message came from a guy named Craig,
[3:24] Speaker 1: and met him once when we both happened to be
[3:26] Speaker 1: picking up from the same Chipotle. Nice guy, bit twitchy.
[3:32] Speaker 1: I remembered him because shortly after I'd seen him there,
[3:35] Speaker 1: he stopped posting altogether, quit delivery work completely. According to
[3:40] Speaker 1: someone else in the chat, said the job was frying
[3:43] Speaker 1: his nerves. I figured he was just burned out. We
[3:48] Speaker 1: all get there eventually. Then one night it was slow,
[3:55] Speaker 1: dead slow. My tank was half empty, my wallet even worse.
[4:01] Speaker 1: Rent was due at the end of the week, and
[4:04] Speaker 1: I was already rationing breakfast into two day intervals. The
[4:10] Speaker 1: address popped up again, triple pay, only a few miles
[4:15] Speaker 1: out clean order. I stared and tapped, except I told myself,
[4:26] Speaker 1: if Craig did it and lived the tell the tale,
[4:29] Speaker 1: however cryptic, then so could I. The guy was clearly
[4:35] Speaker 1: a little paranoid. There's no way that a house that
[4:39] Speaker 1: is on this app and has been on there for
[4:41] Speaker 1: as long as it has, is dangerous. You spend enough
[4:45] Speaker 1: time dropping off food to people who treat you the
[4:48] Speaker 1: way you would treat a vending machine with legs, and
[4:51] Speaker 1: it starts to mess with your head. The order came
[4:55] Speaker 1: from a local burger spot I knew well. I'd picked
[4:59] Speaker 1: up from there had times before, no issues, Fry's, double cheeseburger,
[5:05] Speaker 1: large drink. Everything was backed up tight in a stable
[5:09] Speaker 1: brown bag. I almost didn't think about it again until
[5:14] Speaker 1: I was walking out the door and one of the
[5:16] Speaker 1: lion cooks called out behind me. Did someone finally take it?
[5:24] Speaker 1: The cashier looked at the receipt, then looked at me.
[5:28] Speaker 1: Be safe, man, he muttered. I delivered to a lot
[5:35] Speaker 1: of weird places over the years, half finished basements that
[5:39] Speaker 1: smelled of mold, aves parked ilegally behind gas stations, one
[5:44] Speaker 1: guy who made me leave a pizza on top of
[5:46] Speaker 1: a tree stump. But this place felt different. For whatever reason.
[5:54] Speaker 1: The neighborhood looked like it had be intact on to
[5:57] Speaker 1: the edge of the city as an afterthought. The road
[6:01] Speaker 1: was clean and newly paved, but once I turned off it,
[6:05] Speaker 1: the ashphalt gave way to gravel, then cracked concrete. The
[6:11] Speaker 1: street signs were faded, barely legible. Every mail box I
[6:16] Speaker 1: passed looked like it hadn't seen a delivery in years,
[6:20] Speaker 1: tilted ross streaked, one even dangling by a single screw.
[6:27] Speaker 1: My GPS stopped giving turn by turns and just dropped
[6:30] Speaker 1: a pin. No house number, just a blinking blue dot
[6:35] Speaker 1: and a note that said you've arrived. I slowed the
[6:42] Speaker 1: car to a crawl and finally spotted it whdged tightly
[6:47] Speaker 1: between two larger houses, like it had been squeezed in
[6:51] Speaker 1: after the fact. It was narrow, with pealing siding and
[6:56] Speaker 1: no numbers on the door or curb. The porch like
[6:59] Speaker 1: blinked in a lazy, irregular pattern. A set of wind
[7:03] Speaker 1: chimes hung from the awning above the door, clinging together
[7:08] Speaker 1: even though the air was completely still. No visible motion inside,
[7:14] Speaker 1: no shapes behind the curtains. But I had that prickling
[7:19] Speaker 1: sensation in the back of my neck, the kind you
[7:23] Speaker 1: get when someone staring at you from a second story window.
[7:28] Speaker 1: I scanned the house once, then again. The windows were dark,
[7:34] Speaker 1: the blinds drawn tight. I sat in my car for
[7:41] Speaker 1: another moment. I'll be lying if I said that all
[7:45] Speaker 1: those messages in the group chat hadn't done a number
[7:48] Speaker 1: on me. I was definitely feeling anxious. But I grabbed
[7:53] Speaker 1: the bag and stepped out into the silence. The instructions
[8:00] Speaker 1: a blunt and impersonal leave on the porch, Do not knock,
[8:05] Speaker 1: do not wait for acknowledgment. I had seem worse. I
[8:12] Speaker 1: set the bag just to the left of the welcome mat,
[8:15] Speaker 1: careful not to block the door, took the confirmation photo,
[8:20] Speaker 1: uploaded it, and marked the order as delivered. As I
[8:25] Speaker 1: turned to leave, I half expected something to happen. But
[8:30] Speaker 1: nothing did. No creak behind me, or so much as
[8:35] Speaker 1: a breath, just the wind chimes tapping lightly above my head.
[8:41] Speaker 1: I walked back to the car, slid into the driver's seat,
[8:45] Speaker 1: and waited for the payment notification. It came through, clean,
[8:51] Speaker 1: full fare and tip included more than I expected. Honestly,
[8:57] Speaker 1: I pulled away, relieved, drove a few blocks, parked near
[9:02] Speaker 1: a gas station and cracked the window, planning to eat
[9:05] Speaker 1: something before taking another order. And that's when the appinged
[9:11] Speaker 1: a new delivery on the same address, triple pay again.
[9:20] Speaker 1: I hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Then I accepted it.
[9:30] Speaker 1: If I had done it once, I figured I could
[9:33] Speaker 1: do it again. It wasn't like anything bad had happened.
[9:37] Speaker 1: The house was weird, yeah, but weird didn't pay rent
[9:42] Speaker 1: and I was behind. The pick up was fast, one
[9:47] Speaker 1: neatly packed brown bag. I made sure not to forget anything.
[9:52] Speaker 1: Checked twice. The receipt was stable to the top of
[9:55] Speaker 1: the new instructions printed in bold lee. If for the
[10:00] Speaker 1: back door, do not use front entrance. So I drove back,
[10:08] Speaker 1: same street, same dying street lights, same wind chimes knocking
[10:13] Speaker 1: together in the still air. I followed the gravel driveway
[10:18] Speaker 1: around the side of the house. The grass was knee
[10:21] Speaker 1: high and busted. Plastic chair laying its side near the
[10:24] Speaker 1: back porch, half sunken into the ground, making it clear
[10:29] Speaker 1: that it had been there for years. The back door
[10:32] Speaker 1: was unpainted and had no handle, just a latch on
[10:36] Speaker 1: the inside, akin to something from an old cellar. I
[10:41] Speaker 1: said the back down, gently snapped the photo and hit complete.
[10:48] Speaker 1: The payment came through almost instantly. Tip included more than
[10:53] Speaker 1: the last one. I got back in the car and
[10:56] Speaker 1: drove off. I was getting tired and it was already
[11:02] Speaker 1: way too late. That night, I went to bed without
[11:08] Speaker 1: overthinking it, slept harder than I had in weeks. The
[11:15] Speaker 1: next morning, I rolled over, checked my phone as always
[11:19] Speaker 1: and opened the app out of habit and the address
[11:24] Speaker 1: was there again, no driver assigned to it. It had
[11:30] Speaker 1: already been sitting in queue for twenty minutes, double pay
[11:34] Speaker 1: this time, no takers, so I took it. The hours
[11:42] Speaker 1: in that day blurred together real fast. Each time the
[11:46] Speaker 1: address popped up, I accepted it. Sometimes the pay was higher,
[11:52] Speaker 1: and sometimes it was the normal amount. Yet still it
[11:58] Speaker 1: was so easy and uncomp located that I felt like
[12:01] Speaker 1: I had just struck gold. But the instructions also kept changing.
[12:08] Speaker 1: Do not ring doorbell, do not make eye contact, place
[12:13] Speaker 1: food and porch, and step back six feet, use gloves,
[12:18] Speaker 1: say nothing. I started joking with myself about it. I
[12:24] Speaker 1: told myself it was some eccentric shut in, maybe an
[12:27] Speaker 1: older person who didn't trust the outside world. The bags
[12:32] Speaker 1: were never moved. However, every time I came back, the
[12:37] Speaker 1: food I'd left earlier was still there, the containers still sealed,
[12:42] Speaker 1: the receipts still stabled. Some of them had gone soggy
[12:46] Speaker 1: from the morning dew. I counted eleven bags stacked on
[12:50] Speaker 1: the front porch, all of them from me. That was
[12:56] Speaker 1: when something in me shifted, and I started wondering, what
[13:02] Speaker 1: if the person inside was dead? What if the app
[13:05] Speaker 1: was just said to auto order schedule meals. Nobody ever canceled.
[13:10] Speaker 1: What if they had family who didn't check on them.
[13:13] Speaker 1: What if I'd been delivering to a corpse? The idea
[13:18] Speaker 1: borrowed into me that night when the order came through.
[13:24] Speaker 1: I didn't hesitate and didn't really care how much they
[13:27] Speaker 1: were paying. I had to check if the person inside
[13:31] Speaker 1: was okay. When I stepped onto the porch and placed
[13:36] Speaker 1: the bag beside the others, I didn't walk away. I
[13:41] Speaker 1: reached for the front door as anxiety was trying to
[13:44] Speaker 1: borrow a hole into my stomach. I knocked three times
[13:50] Speaker 1: food delivery, I shouted. No answer came, and so I
[13:57] Speaker 1: decided to take matters into my own and I opened
[14:02] Speaker 1: the door with a painful groan and stepped inside. The
[14:06] Speaker 1: door clicked shut behind me the moment I stepped through.
[14:11] Speaker 1: I didn't even touch it, didn't hear wind or pressure
[14:15] Speaker 1: or anything that might have caused it. It just closed,
[14:19] Speaker 1: smooth and silent. Then I heard the dead bolt slide
[14:24] Speaker 1: into place with a low mechanical clunk. I turned around immediately,
[14:31] Speaker 1: heart jumping into my throat. I tried the knob nothing,
[14:37] Speaker 1: it didn't even rattle. I jiggled it harder, then put
[14:41] Speaker 1: my weight into it to no avail. I also tried
[14:45] Speaker 1: getting the dead bolt unlocked at least, but I failed
[14:48] Speaker 1: every time. I tried, are you serious? And muttered, half laughing,
[14:55] Speaker 1: but with no humor behind it. I pulled out my phone.
[15:00] Speaker 1: No bars, not a single one. The little spinning circle
[15:05] Speaker 1: on the screen felt like it was mocking me. Of course, hey,
[15:12] Speaker 1: I called out, raising my voice, a little hallo food
[15:16] Speaker 1: delivery silence. You would think every single home would have
[15:25] Speaker 1: some sort of ambient noise, but this one didn't. Just
[15:30] Speaker 1: dead air and a deafening silence. I waited for a
[15:34] Speaker 1: few more seconds, trying to listen out for any movement
[15:38] Speaker 1: or maybe even some one calling out to me from
[15:41] Speaker 1: deep inside the house. There was nothing. I didn't want
[15:47] Speaker 1: to go any farther, but I told myself who was
[15:50] Speaker 1: probably an old person, someone hard of hearing. Maybe they fell,
[15:56] Speaker 1: maybe they had a stroke, wherever the case. All I
[16:00] Speaker 1: wanted to do was leave and call the police or
[16:03] Speaker 1: the ambulance. So I stepped forward with a full intention
[16:09] Speaker 1: of getting out as soon as possible. The entryway opened
[16:15] Speaker 1: into a short hallway carpeted in a faded brown that
[16:19] Speaker 1: was matted down in uneven patches, like certain spots had
[16:24] Speaker 1: been stepped on too many times and others not at all.
[16:29] Speaker 1: The walls were yellowed, maybe from smoke, maybe just time,
[16:34] Speaker 1: and the air smelled faintly of ammonia laid over something
[16:37] Speaker 1: harder to name, like meat left out too long in
[16:41] Speaker 1: warm room. The ceiling looked weird, Strange marks had been
[16:47] Speaker 1: left in the material. Circular holes dotted the entire surface.
[16:54] Speaker 1: I took another step, shoes sinking slightly into the carpet.
[16:58] Speaker 1: The floor creaked beneath eath me, slow and high pitched Hello.
[17:05] Speaker 1: I tried again. I don't mean to intrude, I just
[17:09] Speaker 1: your door locked behind me. I reached the end of
[17:14] Speaker 1: the hallway and leaned slightly to peek into the kitchen.
[17:19] Speaker 1: Pale tile, mostly clean, a few dark stains near the sink.
[17:26] Speaker 1: The fridge was humming, and the little green light on
[17:29] Speaker 1: the microwave was blinking twelve o'clock like it had never
[17:33] Speaker 1: been set. The place wasn't messy, but it didn't feel
[17:38] Speaker 1: lived in either. It had the hollow, too quiet energy
[17:43] Speaker 1: of a model home, something built to look like someone
[17:46] Speaker 1: was there. I offered there for a second, right at
[17:51] Speaker 1: the edge of where tyle met carpet, trying to figure
[17:54] Speaker 1: out what to do next. That's when I heard it,
[18:01] Speaker 1: A noise from deeper in the house, a sort of
[18:05] Speaker 1: raspy breathing. I leaned in just enough to get a
[18:10] Speaker 1: clearer view down the hall that when something moved. It
[18:16] Speaker 1: wasn't loud, definitely not a crash, but I felt it
[18:21] Speaker 1: more than heard it. A sudden, fast shift low to
[18:26] Speaker 1: the floor. I caught just the briefest flicker of pale
[18:30] Speaker 1: skin sliding out of sight around the corner, like something
[18:34] Speaker 1: had darted across on all fours. I jerked back instinctively,
[18:39] Speaker 1: a cold jolt ripping through my chest. My heel slid
[18:44] Speaker 1: across the linonium, and I nearly went down. I caught
[18:48] Speaker 1: myself against the wall, palm slapping into the dry wall
[18:52] Speaker 1: with a dull thud, but I barely noticed. My heart
[18:57] Speaker 1: was pounding so hard it felt like I choked me.
[19:02] Speaker 1: For a second, I didn't move, just stood there, frozen
[19:07] Speaker 1: in place, the air in my lungs too tight to
[19:10] Speaker 1: let out. Something was here and it wasn't sick, and
[19:17] Speaker 1: it wasn't human. I started backing toward the front door
[19:23] Speaker 1: without thinking, each step light, careful, like I didn't want
[19:29] Speaker 1: the floor to know I was leaving. My eyes stayed
[19:33] Speaker 1: locked on the hallway. I didn't even blink. The doorknob
[19:38] Speaker 1: was slick under my hand. I twisted it hard. I
[19:43] Speaker 1: felt like a kid checking the fridge every five minutes
[19:46] Speaker 1: to see if anything has changed. I kept tugging and pulling,
[19:51] Speaker 1: each tug making a sound that pierced the silence. Then
[19:57] Speaker 1: I heard it agains, but this time it was softer, wetter,
[20:06] Speaker 1: the steady drag of something moving along the floor. It
[20:10] Speaker 1: wasn't coming from the hallway anymore. It was coming from
[20:14] Speaker 1: the kitchen, right behind me. I turned around slowly and
[20:20] Speaker 1: saw it. It was crouched low behind the kitchen island,
[20:24] Speaker 1: half shadowed, but close enough now that I could make
[20:27] Speaker 1: out its shape. The thing was down on all fours,
[20:33] Speaker 1: bare chalk white skin, stretched tight over a long, rail
[20:37] Speaker 1: thin frame. Its limbs were too long for its torso,
[20:42] Speaker 1: and they bowed slightly like they had too many joints.
[20:46] Speaker 1: Its fingers, if that's what they were, scraped along the
[20:50] Speaker 1: floor in slow, deliberate arcs, each tipped with yellowed, cracked
[20:55] Speaker 1: nails that curved like splinters. Its head moved slowly swaying
[21:01] Speaker 1: side to side like it was sniffing. But it had
[21:04] Speaker 1: no nose, no eyes, just the sunken face with a slack,
[21:09] Speaker 1: wet mouth, hung wide open, as if it had been
[21:13] Speaker 1: caught mid scream and then forgotten how to close it.
[21:17] Speaker 1: I froze for half a second, maybe less. It didn't
[21:23] Speaker 1: lunge or make any aggressive gestures. It just inch forward
[21:27] Speaker 1: with that same awful calm, dragging its body across the tile,
[21:32] Speaker 1: with a sound like wet towels sliding through broken glass.
[21:38] Speaker 1: It was close enough to reach me if I hesitated.
[21:42] Speaker 1: I didn't. I sprinted, angled my shoulder and drove straight
[21:48] Speaker 1: into the kitchen window with everything I had. But it
[21:53] Speaker 1: didn't give. It cracked, spied a webbing beneath the impact,
[21:58] Speaker 1: but held my arm folded wrong, pain shooting through it
[22:03] Speaker 1: like an electric wire. I dropped hard, the breath knocked
[22:08] Speaker 1: out of me, my back slamming against the cabinet with
[22:11] Speaker 1: a dull, wooden bang. I gasped for air, vision swimming,
[22:17] Speaker 1: and when I looked up, it was already there. The
[22:22] Speaker 1: thing was crawling toward me fast, now, fast than it
[22:26] Speaker 1: had any right to move. Its limbs clacked against the tile,
[22:31] Speaker 1: one of Its arms flailed blindly, catching the helm of
[22:34] Speaker 1: my jacket. The sound it made, somewhere between a gurgle
[22:39] Speaker 1: and a rattle, was directed at me. It didn't just
[22:44] Speaker 1: want to hurt me. He wanted to feed. Nobody had
[22:49] Speaker 1: stepped foot in this house for god knows how long,
[22:52] Speaker 1: and I was the first one it had seen. I
[22:56] Speaker 1: kicked hard, my boot connecting with his chest. His skin
[23:00] Speaker 1: felt soft, almost spongy, but underneath was something solid. The
[23:06] Speaker 1: thing recoiled slightly but didn't stop. Its hand lashed out again,
[23:11] Speaker 1: skimming my knee, this time, nails grazing skin. I felt warmth,
[23:17] Speaker 1: but I didn't check. I pushed myself up with a grunt,
[23:22] Speaker 1: got my hands under me, and searched forward with everything
[23:25] Speaker 1: I had. I slammed into it, head on my weight,
[23:29] Speaker 1: driving into its chest, and for a moment I thought
[23:33] Speaker 1: it might hold its ground. Its limbs curled around me
[23:37] Speaker 1: like cables, one of them wrapped around my forearm, pulling tight.
[23:43] Speaker 1: Adrenaline surged through me as I pulled against it with
[23:46] Speaker 1: everything I had. My elbow smashed into what passed for
[23:50] Speaker 1: its neck once twice until it let go just enough
[23:55] Speaker 1: for me to shove its sideways. It crumbled onto the floor,
[23:59] Speaker 1: limp tangling beneath it like a sack of broken sticks.
[24:04] Speaker 1: Still running on whatever adrenaline I hadn't burned out in
[24:07] Speaker 1: the scuffle, I doubled back toward the window. The crack
[24:11] Speaker 1: I'd made earlier was still there, spidered across the glass
[24:15] Speaker 1: like a frozen explosion. This time, I didn't brace myself.
[24:20] Speaker 1: I didn't aim. I threw my whole body into it.
[24:25] Speaker 1: The glass gave with a sharp, staccato burst. It came
[24:29] Speaker 1: apart all at once, not with a clean break, but
[24:32] Speaker 1: in a thousand small shards that cut through my sleeves,
[24:36] Speaker 1: my forearms, the side of my neck. I didn't feel
[24:39] Speaker 1: it right away, just the sensation of air hitting exposed
[24:43] Speaker 1: skin as I spilled through the frame and landed hard
[24:47] Speaker 1: in the patchy, uneven grass outside. The fall knocked the
[24:51] Speaker 1: wind out of me again, but I scrambled to my
[24:54] Speaker 1: feet without thinking. Blood was running down my arms in thin,
[24:59] Speaker 1: erratic lines, and my shirt stuck wet against my ribs.
[25:03] Speaker 1: But I didn't stop. I didn't check behind me. I
[25:08] Speaker 1: just ran. I don't remember the drive home, not really,
[25:15] Speaker 1: just fragments, my hands slipping on the wheel from blood,
[25:19] Speaker 1: the street lights looked brighter than the sun as I
[25:21] Speaker 1: drove in the daze. By the time I made it
[25:25] Speaker 1: back home, my hands were shaking so badly I could
[25:29] Speaker 1: barely open the first aid kit under the sink. I
[25:32] Speaker 1: tore it apart, trying to find gauze, tape, anything to
[25:36] Speaker 1: make the bleeding slow down. I didn't try to explain
[25:40] Speaker 1: it to myself, not anymore. I wasn't going to sit
[25:45] Speaker 1: there and rationalize what I saw, what it tried to do.
[25:50] Speaker 1: I called the police, not nine one one, just the
[25:54] Speaker 1: local station. I told them I delivered to a house
[25:57] Speaker 1: and found someone inside, maybe someone dangerous, I said. I
[26:02] Speaker 1: thought they might be breaking or someone in need of
[26:05] Speaker 1: medical help. I didn't know what I was saying. I
[26:09] Speaker 1: just needed someone else to go there. They sent a car.
[26:16] Speaker 1: I waited by my phone for over an hour, hands
[26:19] Speaker 1: bandaged in layers of gauze and paper towels. When the
[26:23] Speaker 1: call came, the officer sounded annoyed. He told me the
[26:31] Speaker 1: resident was an elderly woman lived alone. The cop asked
[26:35] Speaker 1: me if this was some sort of internet trend. This
[26:38] Speaker 1: house has been called in for things for months now,
[26:41] Speaker 1: yet the police never find anything. He asked me why
[26:45] Speaker 1: I felt the need to make a false report. Warned
[26:48] Speaker 1: me that filing again without cause could result in charges.
[26:52] Speaker 1: Suggested maybe I was overworked. I didn't argue. I just apologized,
[27:01] Speaker 1: hung up, and sat there in the dark. The next morning,
[27:08] Speaker 1: I did what I always did. I opened the app
[27:14] Speaker 1: and there it was. Same address, no number, just the pin,
[27:22] Speaker 1: same block behind the strip mall, same flickering porch light.
[27:26] Speaker 1: In the preview photo, triple pay order waiting to be
[27:33] Speaker 1: picked up.

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