Packet of Fury

There is of course little connection between a 'wise man' and myself.

One day recently, I was sitting happily scrolling through E-Bay looking for one thing when I came upon some Chinese tat that might do.  As you know, shiny things attract, and I was attracted to the cheap price.  Only once it was ordered did I realise it was coming from China.  Usually these things are stored in warehouses here all along.  Tsk!

Anyway, I was notified the tat had arrived in the UK 48 hours later and would soon reach me.  This was Friday, the goods should be here by Tuesday.

On Wednesday, I began to wonder.  Then the E-Bay info said it was posted and on it's way.

'Yodel,' the carrier, did not have this on their site, however.

Nothing happened.  

On Thursday I checked again, I made use of the 'Live Talk' button and talked live to a human being with a Pakistani name.  It's on it's way, they said.  

Then, the driver could not find the address!

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I may have mentioned somewhat surly like that the house has been here for 200 years and the road itself for over 3000 in the middle of town, and he could not find the address! 

The person on the other side tried hard to be polite and helpful, they did not deserve me.

Friday, I waited, I waited, the Yodel site did not show the packet was coming out.

By lunchtime, I fumed myself into a tizz and emailed the man who sent the goods.

Not in Chinese I should say.

I pointed out that the packet had taken 48 hours to come from China several thousand miles away and 7 days to come to me from Ipswich 33 miles up the road!  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!  I said Grrrrily.

In a much nicer manner than I had the two days previously with the customer service folks who probably were in Pakistan.

I sat back irked out.  

I had told them! 

30 minutes later, the packet arrived at my door. 

Hmm....

Finding a Birthday Card is not Easy & Yodel Make me Wait.

With three birthdays arriving soon, and one or two just past, I have had to make the long slow search of suitable cards for each individual.  This as you know is not easy.  The Great Nephew, aged 3 in a week or two, cannot read, does not understand, but forces me to buy a card for him, or mum might say something.

Niece's and great nieces will not object if nothing comes for them on their birthday, though they will remember this!  Therefore I have to have a pile of cards, along with an 'Amazon' voucher included, in the desk.

Naturally, when the birthday approaches none of the cards are suitable.  

Therefore I stand in a shop staring at a vast array of cards, some asking prices that would make a CEO of an electric company jealous, while looking for 'that' card and that one alone.

It is of course not there.

So, we visit one shop, then the other, the first offering a huge shop full of dull, boring cards that grannies are supposed to like  The type you send to people you do not know very well.  This causes me to ask, why then are you sending one?  You leave the shop deflated, refuse to peruse 'W. H. Smith,' voted annually 'the worst shop on the High Street,' and enter the 'Card Factory.'

When this shop first opened it was full of tat.  The cards were mostly unfunny, unless you were still at school or read the 'Sun.'  Otherwise it was cheap and cards marked for 'Mum,' Cousin,' or '3 Today,' type cards.  Also on offer were a variety of cheap gifts of various types.

Recently I noticed the cards have improved, the prices dropped, the ones I bought were £1:49 each, and the quality much better.  The others were still available, as the cheap China made tat, but much better in my view and I bought several to fill the desk with, even though they are not the greatest cards but will do the job for some.  

The young lady at the desk added things up, studied the reading on the screen and told me that as there was 'Buy 2 get one free' on some I could have 3 more cards free.  Naturally I raced back and found 3 more, at which she then totalled up and took my cash.  Note, CASH!  Shops such as this can take cards but many prefer to pay cash.  Some trendy places are dropping the cash bit.  Soon it will arrive here.

Such good staff, not unusual in this town, it does not always occur but many do act very well here.

Now I sit here trapped.  Trapped waiting for the man from Yodel delivering a wee packet.  It is now past 6 pm and no sign of him yet.  He comes from the Ipswich depot, possibly has 500 drops all over middle Essex, and gives me no indication of when he may arrive.  This is unfortunate as most carriers these days at least give a 2 hour gap when they may deliver, not Yodel. Of course the driver, on possibly £3:25  drop, may not be keen to rush about, or else he is working so hard he might have come off the road somewhere.  Yodel are the carrier company that make people use Hermes!  

This is the period of time when I am considering moving through to the west wing and settling down in my bed to watch/read/cogitate/ or encourage somnolence.  Especially after trawling through town looking for cards, being spoken at by two women from the Kirk, and enjoying the delights of almost, but not quite, buying something.  I am ready for the west wing.  

However, as you know I am not one to complain.  I will sit here listening to a podcast of some sort, avoid Twitter wars for a while, and getting agitated by the podcast.  First World problems I suppose.  I am too used to getting what I want easily and grumble when it does not happen.  Tsk!  I need a good slap!

Now I'm Not One to Complain, But....

After expostulating on the deficiencies of YODEL's version of service I yesterday I put myself into sleep mode by watching Inverness playing their local rivals Ross County in the first 'Highland SPL Derby.'  Most enjoyable indeed, and watching people playing football while freezing cold rain comes straight down is indeed enjoyable, when I am lying in my warm bed at the time.  Thus relaxed I slept,  fitfully as my dreams interrupted by 'white van man' passing the door and visions of my phone being used by others.  Today however I returned to important matters, Tesco first for the things forgotten yesterday, then market for the fruit to keep me healthy and young looking, (What's that you said?) and turning on the laptop to watch the Saturday football.  Could life get better than this I ask?  Three games on the trot to watch today wooppee, but at 2:45 my enjoyment was disturbed by a rapping at the door.  Not being one who likes 'Rap' I hastened to the door with an appropriate shotgun.  A woman stood there, with a box, (a woman who used to work Saturday's only for Royal Mail) stood there, holding a box!  My phone had arrived!!!  Somewhat irritated she was too, the address failed to contain the flat number and she had rapped at the door downstairs unheard by me as I was watching the football.  That made no difference as the bell is broke anyway but she left me the box and shuffled off grumpily to complete her other deliveries.  She did not recognise me which surprised me, women usually do! 

So while Wigan Athletic worked over Everton I opened the box, studied the paperwork, and managed to set up and charge the phone.  By the time Arsenal had put West ham to the sword I was studying the paperwork and asking "What....?" quite a lot.  You must understand the old phone goes back about a dozen years, and in those far off days, when life was better, then sending a text was exotic!  This one makes no sense to me in any way, yet I can send emails, use facebook and run up bills.  Fantastic!  In about six months time I might have worked out how to make a call, whether I know how to do anything else, such as work the radio, find the camera, or whatever is as yet unclear.  

I suppose being able to store all those numbers means I will have to find some friends now ......

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Bloody Annoyed!

The mobile phone I never use is dead.

I decide to order a new cheap one.  It is useful to have such for emergencies.  

I go back to Virgin Mobile for a cheap one.  I buy it online.

This means cost increased by rip of delivery charge of almost £8. However it will be delivered between 7 - 9 am next morning.

Next morning, I wait.

I wait, I wait, I jump up frequently as the bloke working next door keeps returning to his van for items and giving the impression he is a delivery van.  If he wasn't so big I would tell him what I think.

I wait and wait.  I wait.

After a while I check the delivery notice e-mails again. This time noting a 'track goods' link.  This I check.  It transpires the delivery is not coming via one of the many courier companies with depots in the local area and drivers who known their way around.  Oh no, Virgin send goods via a company based in Cambridge, 50 miles away!!!  Not only the distance, this is YODEL, a badly named company with an atrocious record regarding delivery.  Deliver before 9?  According to the read out he only picked the thing up at 7:44.  

Grrrrrr!

Encouraged by an unsmiling UPS man delivering next door just after 3 pm I held off phoning in.  I had checked the tracking site and noticed a change.  The parcel was now 'with the courier for delivery.'  "He's off home," thought I.  He is now heading for Cambridge and a Friday night pub brawl.  My mood darkened, although outsiders may not have noticed this as I had already began to spit blood.  

After 4 I called in.

"Choose 1 for....." began. 

"Choose ... enter... " wait.

It takes me back to where I was and "Choose 1...."

Having slammed the phone down I thought I would call Virgin themselves.

"Choose..."

I slammed the phone down.

I waited and tried again when in a better mood.

"Choose...." I chose, I waited, I chose, I waited, I endured bloody awful music, I waited, I waited, I slammed the phone down.

I tried Virgin again.......SLAM!!!!

I emailed.

I made a point or two, I made a demand or two, I asked a question or two.

It was late, I got no reply, I expect no parcel tomorrow, I expect a call with words possibly tomorrow, although being Saturday they may not be available, and I expect them to be told where to shove it and give back the cash!  

I fail to understand what is wrong with me these days.  I get so annoyed so easily.  Life improves on one hand and things fall apart on the other.  I am just glad I don't live in a gun toting society.

I may have used one today.

p.s. Just after 10 pm I again look at the tracking to discover the driver 'could not locate.'  He could not locate a road paved by the Romans and in constant use ever since?  Lazy good for nothing!

Right that's that.  let's see something funny for Friday.

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