Like a kick, right in the package…

By far, the most frustrating thing about my day to day job — that’s the profession I proclaim of tech journo, wot ‘elps pay the bills and all that, rather than the more important work of raising three reprobates fine young Australians — is dealing with couriers. Now, I’m aware that it’s not the most rewarding of jobs, and there are always traffic hassles to deal with, but at the same time, I often teeter between a comedy of errors and outright tragedy with couriers. Some choice examples include:

  • Yesterday: As duly noted, it was my eldest child’s first day at school, and I was determined to be there at the start and end of the day, but I had a courier bringing a number of rather expensive boxes in — not stuff I’d want left out in the rain to speak of. The morning session was OK, as we left our middle child at home in the care of someone who was rather brilliantly described as “The Fifth Element version of Alex Kidman” by a friend of mine, and he’s got enough experience with couriers to deal with them. Naturally enough, the courier didn’t turn up then. Or for the next five hours, for that matter. 3pm draws near, and I start getting nervous, but nothing’s going to stop me heading to the school regardless — some things are more important, after all. So naturally, the courier calls from my front door on the dot of 3pm, just as my daughter’s coming out of her classroom, so I get to miss that because I’m dealing with someone who barely understands simple questions over the phone. As it transpired, it appears he was calling from his truck because he’d just left the packages there anyway….
  • The followup: This morning: A courier turns up… as I’m getting my daughter into the car. Thankfully that was an easy pickup job. I’m sitting here right now, however, waiting for another courier to turn up, and 3pm is beckoning yet again…
  • Going a bit further back in the courier frustration files finds these little gems:
  • A courier read the crossed-out address label on something I was sending back, and promptly delivered it *back* to me.. three days later.
  • A courier delivered a shiny new $6,000 laptop… in a dripping wet box. On a sunny day. How did that happen? “I dunno, mate…”
  • A courier (organised by the vendor) turned up to pick up a 42″ LCD.. on a motorbike. Oh, how we laughed.
  • A courier walked straight into my living room, without knocking, on a Saturday afternoon “because the door wasn’t locked”. Makes me wonder what his other line of trade was.
  • There’s also another guy who lives a couple of streets from me and also does some games writing; we’ve “swapped” packages via courier a couple of times, as he’s ended up with mine and vice versa. Because, y’know “Simon” reads just like “Alex” on an address label. All those streets north of the harbour bridge are all the same street, aren’t they?

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