Karma, right? Karmaric? Yes, no? Alternate spelling? Maybe the next version of Word Press will come with spell check. Or maybe this version has it and I just haven’t figured out how to use it yet. Whatwhichever.

Sometime last spring — actually, April 22nd — I took a delivery to a lady who lived, if not at the absolute furthest extent of our area, was at least in the general area. Her order included a salad, and the salad did not include a plastic fork (because the manager that day figured she had forks of her own). I believe she did, she claimed she didn’t, and I had to drive all the way back to the store for a plastic fork. BAH!

Last weekend, I took a delivery back to this very same house. I don’t mind the fork thing as much as the fact that she never ever tips. Well, she tipped this time. Good lord did she ever.

See, she’s moving (hopefully, out of the delivery area). When I pulled up, the street was filled with cars and her driveway was filled with junk and people looking to buy said junk. She was in her garage with, I presume, her daughter (they’re both grown women), handling the cash box and ringing people up. “Oh, look, pizza!” and she joked about selling the slices at a profit.

So she and her presumed-daughter ask me the price, then talk amongst themselves about how to handle the transaction, while giving change to people who want to buy junk. Finally, she says to her daughter, “Give him that” (meaning the money in her hand) “and ask for two back. One for each of us!”

So I take the bills from her daughter and hand over two singles. They both pocket one, I thank them and leave. As I emerge from the garage and hurry to my car (which I parked on the street so I wouldn’t have to run over any junk-sale-shoppers), I quickly leaf through the money the daughter’s handed me. Now, I try to always do this both as discreetly as possibly, as well as quickly as possible. There are a few customers whose money I don’t count (because I’ve been delivering to them so often I know they’re cash is right), but if there is a money problem, it’s a lot easier to fix when I’m only a third of the way down their driveway. And, of course, I think it’s a little rude to count money in front of someone who has just given it to you: especially when you’re the one being tipped. “How much didja tip me?”

In this case, I was pretty sure the answer was “$1″ with a side of “If you’re lucky.”

Nope.

Even with the change back, a tip close to six smackers (that’d be dollars).

As best as I can figure it, mom & daughter had a little miscommunication when they were haggling prices. Or maybe daughter took some money from a junk-sale-customer and failed to pass it over to mom.

Or, maybe, just maybe, mom thought to herself “Y’know what? I was a real bitch asking that guy to make a sixteen-mile roundtrip for a second time, just so I could get a little plastic fork when I had plenty of real forks in my drawer. Y’know what? I’m giving him a great tip today.”

Or maybe karma got her vengeance.