A tale of woe
Bit old this but it’s been sitting unpublished and getting lonely…
OK, that’s a slight exaggeration, it’s more a rant and a moan, than a story of distress.
The tale begins several weeks ago when I ordered my MacBook, with the hope that, by the time it was built and delivered, we would have been to Spain and back. I happily meandered along on that basis until a random check of the order status raised my hopes that it might appear the day before we flew out, and the Monday before we flew out I confirmed with TNT that it would be at their Linwood depot on the Thursday, the day before we headed off.
I had arranged for the delivery to be made to my office, to make sure there would be someone there to sign for it, and so having phoned the courier in the morning to confirm that it was on the van, I spent the Thursday dotting about doing last minute bits and bobs, with the plan being to swing past the office (which is on the far side of Glasgow from where I live) and pick up the MacBook before heading out for dinner with my mates.
Of course the courier, TNT, had other ideas.
Now the conversation I had with the Linwood depot was quite straightforward. On the advice of my wife, who deals with couriers every day (and who had high praise for TNT), I phoned them first thing on the Thursday morning to confirm that my ‘package’ was on a van to be delivered, and was told that yes it was and the lovely lady from the depot even confirmed the address “just to make sure”.
So I’m sure you can imagine that I was, and please let me pause to choose my words carefully… COMPLETELY FUCKED OFF when, having arrived in the office, all I received from our receptionists when I enquired to the whereabouts of my package, were quizzically blank looks.
Straight on the phone to the depot and I was told it would be delivered before 5.30pm and as it was only 5.10, it should be with me within the next 20 minutes. With a sigh, I grabbed a coffee and the paper, and sat down to wait. I gave them until 5.35pm before phoning back and after navigating through their call system I managed to get to speak to a real person, who quite happily confirmed that my package was right there in the deport, waiting for me to pick it up.
Yup, it was in the depot where it had been ALL FUCKING DAY!!! A depot which, due to the mass of roadworks on both the local roads and nearby section of the M8, would have been a damn sight easier to get to than my office and which I could have visited in the mid-afternoon, before the rush hour traffic kicked in.
Anyway, that’s in the past now and the main thing was, after all that hassle, that I would have the MacBook to take with me to Spain. And we did, and it was pretty damn good to sit on the plane and watch an episode of House, even if I did forget myself at one point and really did LOL..