Work Text:
Sanji is about to lose his mind.
This is the third time this week that his Instacart shopper has completely failed to be passably functional at their job at all.
First, he had to deal with Mr Fucking Gung-Ho who had put the wrong number of onions into the cart (12) four separate times (14, 21, 17) before Sanji snapped. His delivery had been 20 minutes late and he'd ended up with a camera roll full of pictures of differing amounts of onions (one of them his own picture (3) that he sent with the last remainders in his fridge to finally get the message across).
He vowed to just get his own groceries the next time after such a harrowing experience, but between shifts at the Baratie and hitting major crunch time on his dissertation, he could barely spare any time for sleep, let alone grocery shopping. So three days later, he resigned himself to what would probably end up being more suffering and put in a request for as many fresh fruits as he could possibly afford — at this point, fruit was about the only thing he could spare the time to eat — which wasn't entirely that many on his part time salary.
And yet, even with such a simple request — such an obvious one — his Instacart shopper once again failed to deliver. Not just promptly, but at all. His exact request had been six apples, three oranges and (as a treat) a punnet of cherries — nothing too complicated — and at first, he'd thought everything was going smoothly.
His shopper had pulled up into a Walmart parking lot — perhaps not ideal for produce, but still passable — and sped through finding both the oranges and cherries with ease: no intervention necessary. That was, until he got to the apples. Or rather, the iPhones. Sanji almost couldn't believe it. It was absurd that someone could possibly confuse real apples for Apple devices under normal circumstances, let alone with a basket full of other fruit.
But there Sanji was, aghast at his desk, fingers hovering above the keyboard like they'd lost all will to continue. And there was his Instacart shopper — Sanji resolved to call him 'Clanker' since he seemed to be confusing bytes and bites so easily — sending him pictures of the Walmart Mobile display case and asking him what model he wanted.
The conversation that resulted took decades off Sanji's life.
[Orange, loose x3 added to basket]
[Cherries, 15oz added to basket]
Sanji.V: No, no. I want apples, like the fruit. Not an Apple phone. - Read 15:03
Janke06: Alreddy bought fruit. - Read 15:03
Janke06: Now imma get Apples. U want 6? - Read 15:04
Sanji.V: No! - Read 15:04
Sanji.V: DO NOT BUY PHONES. I want apples I can eat!! - Read 15:04
Janke06: Ohh I getchu. Lemme ask - Read 15:06
Sanji.V: thank you… - Read 15:06
Janke06: They say they got no edible phones, so imma ust get you 6 iPod touches - Read 15:12
Sanji.V: NO!! Put the iPods down I don't want ANY iPods! - Read 15:12
Janke06: ok. - Read 15:13
Sanji.V: I want 6 apples, the fruit, okay? - Read 15:13
Janke06: got it boss
[image attached] - Read 15:15
Janke06: Which colors - Read 15:15
Sanji.V: None! None of them!! I want the food! Like a round pear??? REAL APPLES??? - Read 15:15
Janke06: ok boss - Read 15:17
Sanji.V: No phones okay?! Just leave the phones. - Read 15:17
Janke06: replacement? - Read 15:24
Sanji.V: JUST REFUND THE APPLES - Read 15:24
Janke06: can I get you Apple watch x6? - Read 15:30
Sanji.V: God help me…. no!! Just refund the apples, PLEASE - Read 15:31
Janke06: ok - Read 15:31
Janke06: No cherries…. - Read 15:38
Sanji.V: What? You know what… fine! Just go to the checkout man, I'm begging you… Just refund anything you couldn't find. - Read 15:38
Janke06: yokay. - Read 15:42
[Cherries 15oz, removed from basket — refunded]
[Apple, loose x6 — refunded]
[Shopping chat closed. Please rate your experience!]
[User submitted a rating: ★☆☆☆☆]
And now, right now, there's this idiot (though Sanji seems to have missed him).
Sanji looks down at the groceries left at his front door, or rather, grocery. He had only needed one thing. And yet, whatever empty-headed idiot Instacart had saddled him with this time hadn't even been able to deliver on even that. He had asked for cilantro, so he would love to know why there is a single package of Italian parsley on his doorstep instead.
He sighs and checks the app logs. This 'RRnoa' guy's head must be so empty it could grow moss in the extra space, because what adult doesn't know the difference between cilantro and parsley of any kind!
Sanji bends down and picks up the package of mistaken-identity leaves and gives it a little shake like that might initiate some kind of magical transformation into the right herb after all. Alas, it does nothing but bruise the rather nice parsley within.
He walks back into his apartment and shuts the door, making his way over to his fridge to take stock of what he has now that his previous plans were out the window. For anyone else, he's sure this mistake wouldn't be much of a hurdle — the two herbs do both fulfil sort of similar roles after all — but, as a chef, he refuses to abide by terrible substitutions and so, must come up with something that will highlight his unintended parsley properly as an ingredient (which certainly isn't the Dhanya Chicken he was going to make before this nonsense).
He opens the vegetable crisper and finds an assortment of wilting greens: some lettuce, arugula, broccolini and half of a carrot leftover from the Boeuf Bourguignon he'd made last week.
Oh well. He's going to have to make this work.
In the end, he scrapes together a nice enough salad with the help of some ricotta Nami had dropped off a few days ago from Nojiko's dairy. It was no Dhanya Chicken, but it was still nutritious and filling, and that's what matters most in the face of a lifestyle that leaves on the verge of burnout at all times.
Zoro lets the barbell clang back onto the rack and sits up, wiping the sweat from his brow and checking his phone. Nothing makes the stress of his tedious job disappear like a good workout. Unfortunately, being the nation's up and coming Kendo champion doesn't exactly pay well outside of competition season — especially when he hasn't yet managed to beat Mihawk in the individual round even once in his three years of wiping the floor in the team event — so he's had to take up a side job in between.
It had to be something with variable hours to fit in between his training and at least mild physical activity to avoid messing up his metabolism (plus it had to be something he could actually do, it's not like he's the most technical man around). So with his options narrowed down to driving for Uber or buying groceries for people who couldn't be assed to do it themselves, he'd picked the option that would at least get his blood flowing every now and then.
He really couldn't afford to let himself slack off since the rest of his Kendo team, Sunny Go, wasn't nearly as good as him, or even good at all. They all specialise in other styles of martial arts and only really show up so that he can compete in the team events on top of competing solo. Luffy refuses to keep hold of his bokken for more than 5 seconds during a match and Robin mostly just psyches their opponents out until they give up on getting points off of her and switch to less daunting targets, usually Nami, despite how ill-advised that actually is.
So really, he'd thought being a personal shopper would be easy. How hard could it really be to buy someone dog food and gatorade in 20 minutes?
But looking down at his shopper profile now, he's beginning to regret underestimating the process.
He squints at his notifications but the single cheerful star accompanying the review from his most recent delivery doesn't budge.
Instacart 16:32 Review your last delivery, Sanji.V has left you a comment! "★☆☆☆☆ You clearly don't know the difference between Cilantro and Italian Parsley. Are you actually serious?"
Zoro feels a vein bulge in his neck, whether from his pump or from this asshole's prissyness, he isn't sure. But one thing he does know is that he's not gonna take this without a fight. He opens Instacart and furiously thumbs through the menus to find the order information.
Who does this guy think he is? Of course Zoro knows what fucking Cilantro is, it's that little frilly leaf that snooty people think their salads can't live without.
He finally gets to the order history screen and confirms his suspicions. Right there, attached to the item request was a picture of a frilly green herb bundle that Zoro is intimately familiar with, seeing that he picked one up and delivered it to this guy's shitty student apartment not 30 minutes ago.
He'll show him, what does fucking Sanji-
His thought process is halted by what he sees as he mashes the back button. The guy had left a photo with his comment that the notification hadn't been able to display.
He squints, peering at the blurry image preview when the text on the ribbon catches his eye and knocks the win form is sails.
No fucking way… right?
He pinches furiously at the image and zooms in, the low resolution image making the text hard to decipher.
But it was enough.
Fuck.
Zoro had actually bought the wrong thing. He felt his ears flush in embarassment, even being in the middle of a public gym wasn't doing anything to curb his natural reaction.
He is actually a fucking idiot.
After getting lost in the store while trying to find it, he'd been so relieved to finally make it to the herb section that he'd just grabbed the first bushel that looked like the right thing after weeding out all the wilted ones. He hadn't wanted to waste any more time — with the trip already dragging from the wild goose chase he'd lead himself on — and so had rushed to the drop off location as fast as humanly possible without double checking anything.
His livelihood depends on actually being good at his job and the knock his rating would take from a 1-star review is bound to impact his earnings. But beyond that and despite of the reputation of guys in this line of work, he actually gives a damn about doing the job well, even if it isn't his true calling in life.
Real people rely on him to deliver their daily necessities promptly and safely. Zoro is all too aware of the difficulties that can stop a person from being able to provide for themselves in this way. That was how he'd even known a job like this existed in the first place: it was pretty much the only way for Usopp's girlfriend, Kaya to get anything she needed when he was at work during the day given her condition.
Ever since starting this job, Zoro had taken pride in the fact that he was able to help those that couldn't make the trip themselves, and now his carelessness had underimined all of that.
He knows how he'd feel if he found out someone had dropped off Chamomile tablets or something instead of Kaya's Vitamin D pills: pissed, is how. It doesn't matter that a mixup between Cilantro and Parsley aren't likely to be as health-threatening, not to Zoro. It was about the principle and if there is one thing Zoro has always prided himself on, it's principle.
He stands abruptly and begins making his way out of the gym at a brisk pace, not even finishing his menu for the day and rushes through the Kroger's for the second time today. Miraculously, it only takes him 10 minutes this time to find the herb display and he takes his time carefully picking out the best-looking bunch of Cilantro from amongst the options.
Right. Okay, now to fix this.
He speeds his way to the self-checkout and breathes a sigh of relief that there are no lines to wait in.
Just as he's about to scan the barcode hanging from the ribbon-wrapped stems, he feels a chill run down his spine and does a double take on the label.
'Cilantro'
He lets out a relieved sigh. Even though he'd chosen this one very carefully, the guilt at having let someone who was relying on him down the first time was making him jumpy (though he would never admit that aloud).
He gets through checking out without any more issues and makes his way over to the man's apartment by bike. It had been his first major purchase with Kendo prize money that he'd ever made and serves him as well now as it did in those first months. Although, he does privately wish teenage him had better taste in names. He'd thought 'Pirate Hunter' had sounded pretty badass when he was 17, but as an adult, it just reminded him of the years he'd spent trying hard to look cool when he was fighting up through the ranks solo without Sunny Go at his back.
Zoro parks along the sidewalk and pulls off his helmet, jogging up the stairs to the apartment he'd delivered to earlier. He places the replacement Cilantro in the same place he'd left the Parsley earlier and knocks once, not waiting to hear the soft 'Coming!' before turning and leaving again. Fixing this, he was up for, but explaining himself to a stranger, he was most certainly not.
Sanji hears a sharp knock at his door as he finishes up with the salad dressing.
"Coming!" He yells back and hastily finishes whisking to untie his apron, draping the pink canvas over a dining chair.
Except, even with his efficiency, there no one at this door by the time he gets there. He frowns, looking left and right down the corridor, but there's no one around.
Hm.
Then he looks down. On his welcome mat lies a single bushel of Cilantro, neatly positioned exactly where the herbaceous imposter had been just an hour earlier.
Oh.
Sanji feels himself smile. After the week of perpetually bad shoppers he's had, he hadn't expected anything to come of his complaint. The last two times had yeilded no response, not even from Instacart themselves, so getting a reminder that some people do care has him feeling a little soft, even if their generosity was to make up for their earlier mistake.
He once again picks up his herbs and returns inside, staging them in the same place as he'd positioned the parsley before snapping another picture and reopening the app.
Zoro has just gotten home when his phone buzzes again. He dumps his helmet on the coffee table and flops down onto the couch, letting all the tension leafe his body before digging in his pants pocket to get to his phone. He's expecting Nami or maybe even Luffy, one or the other always bothering him about paying off his debt or when he would next be free for a spar.
But to his surprise, it's another notification from Instacart.
Instacart 17:37 Sanji.V has updated their review! "★★★★★ Thank you for replacing it. I appreciate it, really. Why don't you come over tomorrow so I can thank you properly with a nice meal? My plans to make Dhanya Chicken are once again possible because of you, so come and enjoy it with me :)"
Zoro just blinks down at the notification, unable to form a cohesive thought for consecutive minutes.
Huh…
He absently presses the notification with his thumb and watches the loading animation play on loop. When the updated review finally loads, he huffs out a disbelieving laugh, suddenly thankful that the reviews aren't publically visible. Because, right on top of the Cilantro sitting central on the same countertop as the previous image, is a sticky note with a phone number penned in elegant handwriting.
Zoro is feeling kind of dizzy with the tone whiplash between their last two communications, but he can't deny that Dhanya Chicken sounds really good, even if he's not sure what it is.
He stares at the looping script for a little longer and then switches to his phone's contacts, typing it in off-hand. Then, against all his instincts to leave this in the past and move on, he opens a chat.
Zoro: Uh… hey. Thanks for changing your rating and I'm sorry for the mix-up, I promise I'm usually better than that. Are you sure you want to invite some strange guy over to your house though? 17:48
Sanji (?): After the week I've just had, I appreciate you trying to fix a mistake. And… maybe I'd like to get to know such a chivalrous guy. 17:51
Sanji (?): Plus, if you try anything I promise I can beat you six-ways to Sunday lol 17:51
Zoro feels his lips twitch.
Is that so? He'd certainly like to see him try.
Zoro: You can try, but after dinner. I don't want to miss out on free food because you picked a fight you can't win lmao 17:52
Sanji (?): Oh, trust me. I never start what I can't finish ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 17:53
Zoro finds himself responding before he can think better of it.
Zoro: Whatever you say, pretty boy 17:53
[Sanji (?) is typing…]