I Nearly Killed an Indian Man

I ordered Indian delivery tonight. I felt ashamed for having Whole Foods Indian last week so I needed to make up for it by ordering from an actual Indian joint. I ordered from one of those spots on 6th St. Not far from my apartment, but I was feeling lazy and needed some pampering. I didn't think it would take very long, but an hour later, after I called to inquire and was told he had left "a while ago and should be there by now", the guy finally showed up. Maybe I should have suspected something when I received no reply to my "Hello?" when I hit the door buzzer. I know I'm on the fifth floor and everything, but it seemed to be taking a real long time for him to make it up. I heard him shuffling up the last flight and peeked through my door, which I'd cracked open to hear his approach. Even when he saw me he continued on very slowly indeed, and as he got closer I could hear the wheezing. Now, any of you pussies that have feigned out of breathness upon reaching my apartment can eat shit because this guy sounded like he was having a heart attack. Hey I know I got a lot more food than I should have, but it wasn't THAT heavy. Seriously concerned, I asked if he was ok. He just smiled and handed me my receipt, all the while struggling to remain alive, dreading the walk down the five flights and the 11-15 blocks back to the restaurant.