The Beta Test

September 3, 2015.

After a few weeks of delays, we finally made it to the beta test. It was frustrating to keep putting it off, but let's always remain positive. Perhaps it was a boon to us that we were delayed. I'm not certain we would have been ready at the time we optimistically planned on deploying our software. But in the spirit of worry free entrepreneurship, we did all we could to speed things up, and had nothing but joy once the day came.

After successfully running tests yesterday evening with fake orders, we were ready for some live ones. My friend Will Fedder, a loyal Morpher (I hope), and I logged on at 8pm, and got to work. 8:01: no orders. 8:02: I'm freaking out. So much for worry free. Two whole minutes had passed, and we still don't have an order to deliver. What was wrong? Did we mess up? Did the technology not work? Do I need to go find a real job?

8:03: orders and relief come flowing in. We each get our assignment- Will to Artisan, myself to the Town Hall Grill. Yay! For a second. Then right away the problems start. We realize we don't have the order number Tar Heel Takeout gives restaurants to identify orders- oops. We'll have to ask for the specific food. But then it seems that we don't actually get the entire order listed in the app- another glitch! Looks like we'll just need to ask for any order they have for Tar Heel Takeout, and hope for the best. Fake it till you make it, I guess.

Another big problem arises with tips. It seems our system overrides whatever Tar Heel Takeout has, and cancels out all tips unless they are re-entered. So we make a plan for Oscar to text Will and myself as each order comes in with the tip amount, so we can enter it manually at the customer's door. Not ideal, but it will have to do.

I pick up tacos from the Town Hall Grill for my hungry friend, and drive onward to her house. A few things have gone wrong, but a lot hasn't. We were able to accept orders. Two drivers were simultaneously available. We sent status updates back to Tar Heel Takeout. The directions were correct. A lot was going right.

I pull up to the house, run up to the door with a bag of succulently aromatic tacos in hand, and ring the bell. A joke and a pleasant smile later, and I'm back in my car, taking notes on what happened, what can be improved, and my opinion on the experience. I do this after every new experience, meeting, or project. Any information about what went well or poorly should be recorded honestly and immediately, to be able to really understand how the business needs to change, and how it does.

No new orders come in, so I have a minute to relax, and think. And I realize- a year of work later, ranging from my first day in the GLOBE course in Fall 2014, through Pitch Parties and Carolina Challenges, through pivots and customer calls, and we made a delivery! One actual, real delivery. A unit of economic activity, measurable if not tangible, was created off of our hard work and lofty goals.

The text I sent Danny upon realizing this was at 8:33pm, on September 3rd It read as such:

"Mariska ordered tacos from the Town Hall Grill. She tipped me $5.26. She had a lovely smile.

Morph's first customer."

It felt good. It still feels good, at 2:30 am that night. But if felt great then. So good, that I decided to stop by Harris Teeter before any more orders came in, and pick up a few bottles of champagne. I had some serious celebrating to plan for, and I earned it. I made $5.26, so the logical thing to do is to spend $24 on cheap alcohol. Well, life is for living, is it not?

I stop the car in front of my house, planning to toss the champagne in the fridge before going off for more deliveries. I open the door, stick my foot out, and some greater force decides to play a prank. My phone slips off my lap, bounces twice, and falls right into the sewage gutter.

Yeah.

I'm in shock. Not too upset about the physical phone, and not even so annoyed that I can't keep delivering. Just  amused at the joke being pulled by the highest beings of prop comedy, appreciative of its great unfortunate irony. After something went so right, and I decide to celebrate it, a silly, silly event throws a wrench into my high. Ugh.

But thank God for neighbors. My wonderfully resourceful and level-headed neighbor comes out of the house with a pair of grill tongs. I reach down, retrieve my phone, and spin her in joy. Shaking my fist to the skies in irreverent disregard for their ill humor, I climb back into my car, and drive on.

It was a slow night, and I got a text telling us that were no longer needed. One delivery each is all we got, but its all we needed for testing, and all I needed to celebrate. I walk into the Tar Heel Takeout office, proudly brandishing a bottle of Andre's finest champagne. The dispatchers, the CEO, and I all toast an exciting future. We toast potential, and camaraderie. We toast change, and progress. We toast lots of happy things, confident in a bright and exciting few months ahead.

In reality, we just raise our glasses and chant 'skol'. But in my mind, I toasted all these things. I was proud. I am proud. Of Oscar and David's amazing work. Of Wes and Charles' willingness to take a chance on us, and their support. Of May's contribution for the better part of a year. For all we've done together. I'm proud. I'm excited. I'm ready.

Let's begin.