Excited to be home from a great day in Madison (dashing and darting an occasional passing shower but overall a beautiful beach day) expecting to see my FeverTree on the doorstep. Alas, nothing, so I checked my Amazon account and was not pleased to see this:
FRIDAY???????????????? When I ordered it, it said Receive Tuesday. I am not happy about this. Not happy at all.
But that’s just the half of it. The second part of the sob story, which actually happened yesterday, is quite worthy of adding to this agita-filled post.
Awaiting arrival via USPS of an 80% lower receiver that had to be signed for, I looked for the mailman, knowing about what time he cruises by. I heard him open and close my mailbox, drive down the hill, then back up to me again. I ran out to the mailbox but he had already flown the coop. In my box with my mail was one of those Sorry We Missed You pink slips.
Sorry we missed you? WTH??? You didn’t even try and bring it to me. I was home waiting for the mailman to drive to the front door.
Pissed, I came in and called the Bedford PO, with whom, as you regular readers know, I have had more than a few issues. I got the sassy old woman whose worked there for 100 years. I explained that I was home, waiting for the box and she said nothing I can do about it. Call the postmaster tomorrow.
I said, Wanna bet??? I told her I wasn’t going to hang up until she found out if my mailman was back at the post office and my box was there. I was put on hold. And hold. And hold. About four minutes later, Carolyn comes back and says your package is here. Can you be here in five minutes?
Speechless at this point, I said, not five minutes but ten. She said we close at 5:30.
I dashed into town, not even sure what I had on, just dashed. I got to the PO in a long 11 minutes, stuck, of course, behind a huge landscaping truck. No one else was parked there so I got right up front, got to the door and IT WAS LOCKED, THE LIGHTS WERE OFF. It was NOT 5:30 yet, maybe 5:20 at this point.
Smoke was coming out of my ears by now and I started knocking loudly on the glass door, then the bay window. Meanwhile I could see a Bedford Police Officer looking over at me, he parked at the fire department next door hoping to trap speeding CT drivers racing through the Village. I waved and smiled to let him know I was not going postal.
Carolyn eventually came to the door, with the package and the form I had to sign. I asked her if it was protocol for the mailman to not even try to come to my door and just leave a note. She said no and added that it was a substitute delivery man today. I didn’t say a thing more, although I was surely tempted. A substitute doesn’t know he has to try the front door….but I could see it was a lost cause. I had the rifle part and the jig kit too. Good to go.
Now if only I had the Fever Tree…………………