The Various Uses of Rubber
I have ordered a new pair of wellies from Amazon for the daily walk to school. My current hardly-at-all-old pair has developed a fissure along one toe. I only noticed this when I was wading along the stream that flows brownly past bobbing Argos bags en route to the afternoon pick up, and I was not pleased. They are a glamorous pair with pink spots and white swirls, bought to ease my daughter's pain in ackowledging a wellie-wearing, stream-paddling mother in public.
I now distrust wellies with spots and swirls, so order a safe-looking green pair. Better to be waterproof than glamorous. Royal Mail gets them as far as my door, thrusts through a 'Sorry you were out' card, and promptly loses them. Amazon is sympathetic and dispatches a replacement pair. This also makes it to my door and again a card is left. This time I decide to pick them up in person from the Royal Mail depot.
The man behind the glass screen makes off with my delivery card and probably has a cup of tea and a nice sit down because it is a long time before he returns. He looks cheerful. 'We've lost them,' he says. I suggest that they might be keeping company with my first vanished pair. The man gazes at me amused. 'What would you be wanting them for anyway?' he giggles. Evidently he suspects kama sutra with a sack of John Innes.
He shuffles off for another look - or another reviving beverage. I realise that a queue has built up behind me and am embarrassed, but to my surprise they beam contentedly back at me. 'It's not wellie good, is it?' says an elderly man. 'I think they ought to give it some wellie!' pipes up another. This one could clearly run and run which is just as well because the Royal Mail official is evidently now enjoying full afternoon tea. Eventually he returns, still chortling, and tells me that the parcel is thoroughly missing, but that I can write out a form and I might get some stamps instead.
I go home and tell Amazon that a certain London postman seems to have a rubber fetish. Amazon, apparently accustomed to this, sends an unquestioning refund and advises me to buy my wellies from a shop. And so I do and now all is well, except that my once jovial encounters with my postie now make me blush.
I now distrust wellies with spots and swirls, so order a safe-looking green pair. Better to be waterproof than glamorous. Royal Mail gets them as far as my door, thrusts through a 'Sorry you were out' card, and promptly loses them. Amazon is sympathetic and dispatches a replacement pair. This also makes it to my door and again a card is left. This time I decide to pick them up in person from the Royal Mail depot.
The man behind the glass screen makes off with my delivery card and probably has a cup of tea and a nice sit down because it is a long time before he returns. He looks cheerful. 'We've lost them,' he says. I suggest that they might be keeping company with my first vanished pair. The man gazes at me amused. 'What would you be wanting them for anyway?' he giggles. Evidently he suspects kama sutra with a sack of John Innes.
He shuffles off for another look - or another reviving beverage. I realise that a queue has built up behind me and am embarrassed, but to my surprise they beam contentedly back at me. 'It's not wellie good, is it?' says an elderly man. 'I think they ought to give it some wellie!' pipes up another. This one could clearly run and run which is just as well because the Royal Mail official is evidently now enjoying full afternoon tea. Eventually he returns, still chortling, and tells me that the parcel is thoroughly missing, but that I can write out a form and I might get some stamps instead.
I go home and tell Amazon that a certain London postman seems to have a rubber fetish. Amazon, apparently accustomed to this, sends an unquestioning refund and advises me to buy my wellies from a shop. And so I do and now all is well, except that my once jovial encounters with my postie now make me blush.
Wow, I wellie thought you were going to say he came back with two pairs. At least amazon didn't quibble with you.
ReplyDeleteWellie clever! The ease with which Amazon accepted my explanation made me worry that wellie-harvesting is widespread among bored posties!
DeleteThere are clearly some wellie sad and bored posties out there.
DeleteI'd have really put the boot in the postie.
ReplyDeleteAm hoping Royal Mail will boot him out
DeleteSorry, but I am laughing very much at the idea of Amazon being unfazed by postmen with a rubber fetish.
ReplyDeleteI can only hope the wellies were not found by someone who had been studying The Guide To Getting It On.
What on earth is the Guide to getting it ON? Hope that doesn't involve vegetables (now I've got my new snug-fitting wellies I could do with a guide to getting them off)
DeleteI have lost faith in the Royal Mail. Buy something pay for it to go somewhere and... it goes missing. Frequently. Far too frequently for my liking. Perhaps, nestled in RMHQ are two pairs of wellies, a birthday card, some biscuits I once sent someone, a hat which I bought but never arrived and a bright yellow mankini, again bought but did not get to me.
ReplyDeleteWe should start scouring the streets for a 4 legged man wearing two sets of wellies, a hat and a yellow mankini. He should be easy to spot.
Another corker of a post which has made me smile this morning. Thank you.
You sure the mankini was yellow? Thought I saw someone matching that description recently - only in purple stripes
DeleteYou'll probably find them on Ebay. Some postie has a creative sideline in sidelining boxes of goodies and making a fast quid.
ReplyDeleteI just bought a veggie chopper thing from Groupon. When I complained at how long it was taking to deliver they told me it would take SIX weeks of business days which roughly makes it worth their while having a shag, making the babies, turning them into scientists and brewing the plastic to make the sodding box.
Kept that quiet though didn't they, 'til I'd signed on the dotted line. Bastards.
I sympathise. I don't want to get all 'our postal system is worse that yours' competitive on you, but really, it is a miracle that we get anything delivered up the mountain. Only last week did we receive the Christmas cake from Betty's of York (plus other goodies like chocolate mice) that was sent to us for Christmas (of course). It arrived with a juicer and we suspect that it was the juicer that chivvied the cake along. So, perhaps if you kept on ordering more wellies they would finally arrive en masse and ready for action.
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