Categories: ramblings
Date: 12 April 2007 12:33:34
At 11:30, I phoned PC World.
"About this desk..."
Bless him, the bloke I spoke to refunded the delivery charge straight away, took my phone number (after some quibbling about whether he could actually speak to me at all, because although I am "D. Surname," I wasn't the right "D. Surname," and although the desk was coming to me, under the terms of the Data Protection Act he couldn't speak to me about it because I didn't pay for it. "Good luck trying to get hold of dad, he's in the Pyrenees*," I said. "Ah." Anyway).
So he took my phone number, promised to call back in 10 minutes. 5 minutes later, he called me back.
Business Post have lost my desk. Or eaten it. Or set fire to it. Or sold it. Or done something else to it which does not include delivering it to either my front door or, apparently, to the right depot.
If it arrives at the depot today, it will go out today, if not, it will go out tomorrow and be delivered in my original delivery slot.
Ah well, can get on with trying to puzzle out möbius knitting, placing an order with Ocado, and wrestling the laundry monster into submission.
I bet starting to make scones would prompt the ring on the doorbell. There's nothing quite like having flour and butter all over your hands to cause unexpected deliveries.
*Might be the Alps. Can't remember. Somewhere pointy in France, anyway.