Catcalls

You know when you're expecting people to arrive?  Family, specifically.  You're bustling around, changing beds and hoovering up random filth, making the place look lovely for them.

You decide to go out into the garden, put the benches and deckchairs out ready to relax out there later on.  While you're out there, you might think "I know, I'll sweep up all the grass clippings all over the paths so that it looks really tidy, and people won't trail grass all through my freshly-hoovered house.

You fetch the broom, and set to, sweeping cheerfully in the sunshine.

You hear a shrill "Coo-eeee!" from around the front of the house.

"Oh good," you think.  "My guests are here nice and early.  Hurrah."

"Coo-eeee!" you reply, continuing to sweep.

"Cooooooo-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" comes the call again, louder and shriller.

"Helloooooooo!" you reply, still not stopping sweeping, waiting for your guests to appear round the corner into the back garden. 

They don't appear.

You realise that they are playing games with you; their shrill calls take on a strangely urgent tone.

"Is there a cat in my front garden?  I can hear it mewling and squawking at me," you call, as you walk round the corner.

You come face to face, not with your sister and her family, but with the post lady. 

"Oh!  I was expecting my sister!  Um...sorry."

"Here's your post.  I knew you must be about, I could hear you sweeping."

Gah.

Going postal

Oh yeah - if you are ever planning to send me a package, don't use City Link. They are bloody hopeless, on current evidence.

I have a package supposedly on its way from Amazon, who are usually absolutely no trouble at all.

I came home from work on Tuesday night to find a card through the door saying that City Link had tried to deliver my package, but had failed because there was nobody home to sign for it. All the other things I have had delivered from Amazon over the years have been left without a signature, but apparently this package is extra special.

Why? Who knows. It's not a Faberge egg, sadly.

So. I took the card to work with me on Wednesday and called the appropriate depot, bloody miles away in Bristol. They said "Your package is out on the van today, to be delivered." I explained that that would be no use, as I was in London. They said "Oh."

After a thoughtful pause, we agreed that my package would be delivered on Friday, when I would be home to sign for it, and take delivery into my own fair hands. And have a retina scan and full rectal probe if required*.

All day long I waited sadly, like a spaniel who had been left behind while everyone else went out for a long walk in the country.

By 7pm it was plain that my parcel was not in fact going to be delivered. This morning (Saturday) I called the City Link depot. The one in Bristol. The lady who (eventually) answered the phone was very pleasant, and apologised for the "confusion".

Um, no. You told me it would be delivered. It wasn't. That's not confusion, it's a cock-up. YOUR cock-up, to be precise**.

But anyway.

I asked them to deliver my package on Monday, and leave it at the Post Office over the road, as various other companies have done for us over the years, including Amazon.

"Oh no, we can't do that. You have to call the sender and ask them."

Alright then. Can we have it delivered to the house on Monday and just leave it outside?

"No, sorry, the sender needs to agree to that. You have to phone them and ask."

But it will be delivered on Monday, at least?

"No, you need to tell the sender, as it has failed to be delivered three times now."

But it wasn't even attempted to be delivered on Friday! The magical third time, apparently. I was in. All bloody day. Waiting. No parcel. Nothing.

*sigh*

She gave me the phone number of the sender (Amazon....do try and keep up) and I left a tetchy message on their answerphone. We shall see if my package appears on Monday.


*You never know your luck.
**I didn't say that out loud. Wish I had though.