There’s nothing to make you realize what a charmed and easy life you’ve led like the various mail delivery systems.
At least, if you get as aggrieved (and insist on using aggrieved and only aggrieved, and possibly swan around your home wailing, “I’m so aggrieved!“) as I do by the UPS, USPS, and…generally I don’t think I’ve ever had a problem with FedEx, or if I have I’ve forgotten it in the way people forget the pain of delivering a baby.
It just doesn’t seem like it should be so difficult. We received a notice at our apartment the other day – and I think I’ve probably written about notices like this before, because it’s not the first – that stated a delivery attempt had been made and the package was at the post office. It helpfully listed our home address, but not, you know, the NAME of the person the package was for. At least this time it gave the tracking number! And that’s nothing compared to the email I got from Amazon today cheerfully telling me that a delivery attempt had been made, but no one was home, and the delivery person didn’t want to leave it unattended, so…
So?
So, joyous be! It’s ready for pickup!
Great! Pickup…where?
Wouldn’t you love to know!
Don’t even get me started on the “Look for a delivery notice on your door!” that was in the email. Yeah, I looked. On the door, in the mailbox. You know where I would love to be able to look? ONLINE, USING MY TRACKING NUMBER. Which, when entered, tells me “no such tracking number exists.”
I have recourse: my last Amazon package, when delivered, was intercepted (okay, received) by someone who had my cell phone number (but not vice versa) and who texted me to say they’d left it at the business downstairs from me. So…maybe my wayward package from today also ended up there.
If it didn’t, though, I’ll be VERY–okay, you get it.
<SO AGGRIEVED>
