WTVG 13abc Action News reporter Alexis Means opens her report with a simple idea that instantly makes your stomach turn: a food delivery caught on camera that raises real questions about what happens to your order between the restaurant counter and your front porch.
Means says a Toledo customer watched her delivery in real time through a Ring camera, and what she saw looked so “disgusting,” in the customer’s words, that she says she’s done with food delivery for good.
The customer, Ashley May, told Means the delivery showed up on Monday a little after 5 p.m., which is the exact moment most people are hungry, trusting, and not expecting to need a video replay to decide whether dinner is safe.
But May did replay it, because she says she couldn’t believe her eyes the first time.
What The Ring Camera Appeared To Show
Means describes the Ring footage as showing what appears to be a DoorDash driver with her hand down her pants before handling the food at the door, which is the kind of allegation that immediately turns a routine transaction into a full-blown trust problem.
May told Means she watched as the driver “reach[ed] inside of their pants and itch or something for a little while,” and then, according to May, that same hand was used to set the food down before the driver took a picture and left.
If you’ve ever used delivery apps, you know the photo is part of the routine—proof of drop-off, a digital receipt that says, “Your food is here.”
In this case, Means’ reporting makes clear that the photo became part of what bothered May, because it felt like the delivery was being documented as normal when, in her view, it absolutely wasn’t.
May told Means she had that immediate, disorienting reaction people get when something doesn’t match their brain’s “normal” settings: “I was like, I didn’t see what I just seen.”
And then she did what a lot of people would do in that moment, especially if they’re trying to be fair and not overreact – she rewound it.
May told Means that when she watched again, it still looked the same to her, and she said, “it was absolutely that.”
The Food Went Straight To The Dumpster
Means reports that May did not eat the food, and her description of what she did next paints a picture of someone who felt contaminated just by being near the bag.
May told Means she went outside with garbage bags over her hands and threw the food directly in the dumpster, saying she took it right to the trash.

That detail may sound dramatic at first, but it’s also a very human response when the issue is hygiene, because you can’t “unsee” what you think you saw, and you also can’t test the food for whatever might have been transferred.
And in a situation like this, the real loss isn’t even the money – it’s the sense that the whole system is dependable, because once your trust breaks, a refund doesn’t exactly restore your appetite.
DoorDash Responds And Takes Action
Means says May reported the driver to DoorDash, and May told her the company offered a refund within five to seven business days, which sounds like standard procedure for a complaint that involves the order itself.
But there was also something else: May told Means that DoorDash later contacted her and gave her $50 worth of credit on her account, though she added she probably won’t use it.
That’s one of those modern-day customer service moments that almost feels ironic – getting “credit” for a service you now want nothing to do with—because it highlights the gap between what a company can offer and what a customer actually needs to feel comfortable again.
Means also included DoorDash’s statement to 13 Action News, where the company flatly called the behavior “unacceptable,” said it took action to deactivate the Dasher, and said it contacted the customer to make things right.
That kind of statement matters because it signals DoorDash is treating it seriously, at least publicly, but it also raises another question: if action happens after video evidence goes viral or gets reported, what happens in the cases that don’t get caught on camera?
The Health Department’s Warning About What Happens After The Restaurant
One of the most useful parts of Means’ report is that she doesn’t just frame this as a single shocking moment; she widens the lens to explain why delivery can be a unique food-safety gray area.
Restaurants, she notes, get inspected, and most people assume “food safety” is handled by a system that checks kitchens and enforces standards.

But Means says the Toledo-Lucas County Health Department explained that delivery drivers are a different story, because the safeguards that exist inside the restaurant don’t automatically follow the food once it leaves the building.
In the statement Means shared, the health department spokesperson said inspectors work closely with operators to ensure proper safety practices in the facility, but “once food leaves the establishment, these safeguards are no longer guaranteed.”
That’s a blunt sentence, and it’s probably the line a lot of viewers will remember, because it confirms the uncomfortable truth that food delivery involves a handoff where oversight gets thinner.
The spokesperson also noted, as Means reported it, that delivery drivers typically aren’t trained food handlers, even though they still play a role in maintaining safety during transport.
And then came the line that almost reads like a disclaimer for modern convenience: consumers should understand “some level of risk exists” when using third-party delivery services.
That’s honest, but it also feels like a quiet surrender to reality – because the entire delivery economy is built on the idea that the risk is low enough that people don’t think about it until something like this happens.
The Driver’s Response And The Part We Don’t See
Means ends her report with an important note that complicates the story just enough to matter: the driver spoke with 13 Action News on social media and said the video doesn’t tell the whole story.
Means didn’t detail what the driver’s explanation was in the information provided here, but even that single sentence is significant, because it reminds viewers that viral clips can create certainty faster than facts can catch up.
At the same time, if you’re the customer watching your food get handled, you aren’t doing courtroom analysis – you’re making a personal safety decision, and you’re doing it with the limited information you have in that moment.
This is where these stories get tricky: a few seconds of footage can be interpreted in different ways, but the customer’s perception of hygiene isn’t something you can litigate into comfort.
Once a person believes their food was handled in an unsanitary way, the trust is gone, even if the company refunds the order, even if the driver disputes the interpretation, and even if nothing “bad” ultimately happened beyond the disturbing optics.
Why This Story Hits A Nerve
The reason this report sticks isn’t just because it’s gross; it’s because it taps into a fear that’s always been there, but usually stays unspoken.
When you pick up your own food, you see the bag sealed, you carry it yourself, and the chain of custody feels clear; when someone else delivers it, you’re trusting a stranger with something you’re going to put in your body.
Most days, that trust is rewarded and nothing goes wrong, which is why the delivery economy works at all.
But the trade-off is that the customer isn’t present for the journey, and Means’ report shows how unsettling it can be when a camera suddenly brings that hidden middle part into view.
And to be blunt, this is the kind of incident that makes people wonder how often smaller, less dramatic hygiene lapses happen without anyone noticing – because not everyone has a Ring camera, and not everyone is watching live when the delivery arrives.
What Customers Can And Can’t Control
Means doesn’t present this as a moral panic about delivery apps, but her reporting does highlight the limits of consumer control once the bag leaves the restaurant.
You can choose restaurants you trust, you can tip well, you can request contactless delivery, and you can hope the system works the way it’s supposed to.

But you can’t supervise the driver’s behavior in the car, you can’t verify whether they touched their face or coughed or handled multiple orders, and you can’t be sure they treat your food with the same care you would.
That doesn’t mean delivery is inherently unsafe, but it does mean delivery always includes a layer of faith, and stories like this turn that faith into a question mark.
It also raises the uncomfortable point the health department hinted at: because drivers are not typically trained food handlers, the rules and expectations can feel fuzzier than they would in a restaurant kitchen where everyone knows inspections are real.
One Customer’s Conclusion: No More Delivery
For Ashley May, the decision sounds final, and Means lets her say it plainly.
May told her she definitely won’t be ordering delivery anymore, and that she’ll either pick it up herself or make something at home, which is the most old-school response imaginable to a very modern problem.
You can hear the exhaustion in that choice, because it’s not just about one meal; it’s about deciding that convenience isn’t worth the mental image that now comes with it.
Means’ report, in the end, isn’t simply a story about a driver and a camera clip – it’s about how fragile the trust economy is, and how quickly it can collapse when a customer feels like the most basic standard of cleanliness wasn’t respected.
And if there’s a wider takeaway here, it’s that food delivery apps aren’t just selling transportation; they’re selling confidence, and confidence is the first thing to disappear when a customer hits “rewind” and doesn’t like what they see.

Raised in a small Arizona town, Kevin grew up surrounded by rugged desert landscapes and a family of hunters. His background in competitive shooting and firearms training has made him an authority on self-defense and gun safety. A certified firearms instructor, Kevin teaches others how to properly handle and maintain their weapons, whether for hunting, home defense, or survival situations. His writing focuses on responsible gun ownership, marksmanship, and the role of firearms in personal preparedness.

































