How I took back the weekend: why not let somebody else do the shopping and the schlepping?

Kiplinger's Personal Finance Magazine, Sept, 1998 by Jane Bennett Clark

Years ago, right after we had our first child, my sister Julie came to live with us. She was looking for a job, but she still had plenty of time to change the odd diaper, make a quick run for a jug of milk and provide the extra pair of hands that the modern household--or at least my household--so desperately needs.

Alas, Julie moved on, and over the years I acquired two more children--but no more hands. With a heavier work schedule and only a stressed-out spouse to help on the home front, this summer I found myself fantasizing: Surely there's someone out there who will pick up the dry cleaning, bring home the groceries, make the dinner, fetch the videos and do the other chores that are driving me to the brink of a breakdown?

To save my sanity, I decide that for one golden weekend I will foist off whatever I can--and pay whatever it takes--to free up time for reading the paper, admiring the garden, maybe even sorting the laundry for the first time in . . . well, let's just say it's been a while.

Using the Yellow Pages, a regional magazine and the Internet, I have no trouble coming up with a list of delivery services. The challenge is finding a service that will deliver to my address. Although a few serve the whole metropolitan area, others cover maybe three ZIP codes or a couple of neighborhoods.

Then there's the problem of scheduling to accommodate delivery. With a lot of phone calls and a bit of enterprise I line up several potential saviors that will come at my convenience.

DOOR-TO-DOOR DRY CLEANING. Bergmann's, a local fixture, charges 25 cents more per shirt than our regular cleaner, but nothing extra for delivery. When I call to arrange a pickup, I'm told to expect the driver on Thursday between 8 and 9 a.m. At 9:15, with no van in sight, I stuff some shirts into a bag and leave it on the porch, hoping the driver gets to it before some passerby does. An hour later, the driver makes the pickup and leaves a receipt. I don't mind the delay, but I worry about next week, when my husband, Chris, will urgently need those shirts.

PURCHASES BY PROXY. Karen Pickens, co-owner of Errands 'N Things, says she'll do almost any chore that's legal, including taking the car in for repair and returning gifts. It sounds wonderful, even at $25 an hour, but deciding what chores she can take off my list takes some doing. (The times we really need an errand service tend to be, say, 11 o'clock at night, when we discover we need poster board for a science project that's due the next day.) Finally, I decide to delegate party planning. But I wonder, can I count on Pickens to get the best deal on plates, cups, candy and balloons, plus 17 squirt guns and other supplies, for my 9-year-old's birthday party in a week? And can she do it in two hours, the most I want to pay for?

GROCERIES BY THE GIGABYTE. If you're holed up in a fallout shelter, maybe you don't expect fresh milk, meat or produce, or even frozen vegetables. But the rest of us consider those items essential, which is why I'm having trouble ordering from NetGrocer (www .netgrocer.com), an online service limited to nonperishable products that can be shipped via FedEx. Although I'd like to buy enough food to get us through the weekend, I'll have to go elsewhere for the basics.

NetGrocer's prices compare well with my supermarket's, and ordering proves easy: Once I register my credit card, I just click on the "buy" icon for each product. Delivery will take two to four days, and shipping charges are a mere $3 to $5. But the selection is skimpy, relying heavily on the Boyardee school of cuisine. I finally produce a list that, for about $40 plus shipping, includes cereal, snacks, canned goods, Gatorade, a Tex-Mex dinner, and macaroni and cheese. For fallout-shelter fare, it will have to do.

THE GALLOPING GOURMET. Chris and I decide to order in a Saturday-night their own plans, and we're looking for something elegant. After consulting with Sutton Place Gourmet, a local upscale-grocery chain, we order brie, pate, bread, shrimp, seasoned rice and a so-called opera cake. All that and a bottle of French wine, I'm told, will run $63. With tax and a $25 delivery charge, the bill comes to $92--pretty stiff, considering we'll be doing the dishes ourselves. I place the order on Friday, just within the one-to-three-day window required. A courier will deliver the whole shebang Saturday afternoon.

VIDEOS TO GO. With Video Library, a mail-order service based in Philadelphia, we anticipate not only home-delivered entertainment but also a shot at those new videos we keep missing.

No such luck. Video Library (800-669-7157; www.vlibrary.com) also has walk-in customers, who get first dibs on new releases. That leaves 17,000 other titles in the catalog, a comprehensive but bewildering list that doesn't include reviews. Finally, I make three choices, to the tulle of $24.81--$6 per video (twice the local price), plus nearly $7 for United Parcel Service shipping, with delivery in two to four days.

A HAIRDRESSER IN THE HAND. Does Monica Lewinsky clean up her apartment before the hairdresser arrives? And how does she pay these prices now that she's unemployed? I'm interested because I've just made an appointment with Jose de los Santos of Toka Salon, the same outfit that has, on occasion, sent a stylist to Monica's place to tame her quivering tresses when she's in D.C. Jose isn't Monica's hairdresser, but he's agreed to give me the Monica treatment by coming to my house on Sunday. At $70 for a styling, it's double the salon price--but, hey, I'm worth it.