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I can't believe that I was presented with this image twice as evidence of their efforts to deliver a package to me. I have no idea where they were allegedly trying to make this delivery, but it could just as well been 10 Downing Street for all I know. It's just a black front door with no identifying house number on it. It could be any Georgian style house anywhere in England, judging by the railings. Definitely not my door though.
Do couriers just make it up when they can't be bothered to deliver something and write any old rubbish into their web tracking site, accompanied by a stock door photo with no distinguishing marks and a pretty good chance that their customer will have a black front door with a letterbox? I understand that maybe they might they get a bit lost and try a completely different address by mistake, or am I being far too charitable here, in this age of satnav? Or maybe I've just been really deaf for the past two days, not hearing the doorbell, or the entry phone, or either of my phones ringing to tell me they had arrived, and also missing that invisible card that they left me. Oh yeah, make that two invisible cards. Or perhaps I wasn't really in bed with flu, but was somehow 'out' and unable to receive this package at the precise moment the computer says 'we tried to deliver to you, but you were out'.
I couldn't believe the way they tried to wriggle out of it with a load of complete lies when they finally deigned to deliver the bloody parcel and I pointed out how different my front door looked to their photo and that I'd been in for two days as I was ill. They must think customers are really stupid, though I get the feeling he couldn't give a toss anyway. Give me the Royal Mail any day.
Rant over. I'd forgotten how useful blogs could be for venting one's spleen occasionally.