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Getting the car repaired, serviced, and MOTd (the new-style MOT certificate is A4 and has a barcode on it!) went very smoothly. Dropped it off at 8.30am, got a call about 2pm saying it was ready, left the flat at 4pm, and only took half an hour to get there (the relevant train and bus both arrived right as I arrived at the respective stops). It cost... a lot, but I wasn't expecting cheap.
Now, the bed.
It was scheduled for delivery between 10am and 2pm.
By 2pm, it hadn't turned up, and there'd been no word from the driver or the delivery company, so I called them. They couldn't contact the driver, so I left my number and waited for them to call back.
At 3pm, I called again, wondering where my bed was. They still couldn't contact the driver. I left even more numbers with them, and waited for them to call back.
At 4pm, needing to go out to get the car, I called again, wondering where my bed was. "Oh," said the man on the other end of the 'phone. "That's the driver who had one of the mattresses stolen from the back of his truck whilst he was making a delivery. He's been tied up with the police all afternoon."
"It wasn't our mattress that was stolen, was it?" I queried.
"No," came the reply. "But I'll have to check to see if the driver can still deliver your bed today, he might not be able to do the hours [due to restrictions on LGV driver hours for safety reasons]."
"Okay, speak to my wife, I have to go out."
5 minutes later (naturally as I'm fiddling with my headphones and Oyster card at the station), A. calls and says that they can't now deliver until Wednesday morning, but at least it'll be by 9am. I live in eternal hope. So we have the old uncomfortable bed for another few days, but it's just as well I didn't take it apart in anticipation of the new one's arrival, eh?
Anyway, I have a message for the muppet who stole the mattress: may your knob shrink to miniscule proportions, before you contract a disease that both makes you smell like someone who's been swimming in a sewerage plant, and your balls to first expand to the size of watermelons, then grow warts the size of pineapples, before dropping off. That, and I hope the police catch you and throw the book at you, preferably the big, heavy version, and from point-blank range, and that they get Geoff Capes to do it.
Now, the bed.
It was scheduled for delivery between 10am and 2pm.
By 2pm, it hadn't turned up, and there'd been no word from the driver or the delivery company, so I called them. They couldn't contact the driver, so I left my number and waited for them to call back.
At 3pm, I called again, wondering where my bed was. They still couldn't contact the driver. I left even more numbers with them, and waited for them to call back.
At 4pm, needing to go out to get the car, I called again, wondering where my bed was. "Oh," said the man on the other end of the 'phone. "That's the driver who had one of the mattresses stolen from the back of his truck whilst he was making a delivery. He's been tied up with the police all afternoon."
"It wasn't our mattress that was stolen, was it?" I queried.
"No," came the reply. "But I'll have to check to see if the driver can still deliver your bed today, he might not be able to do the hours [due to restrictions on LGV driver hours for safety reasons]."
"Okay, speak to my wife, I have to go out."
5 minutes later (naturally as I'm fiddling with my headphones and Oyster card at the station), A. calls and says that they can't now deliver until Wednesday morning, but at least it'll be by 9am. I live in eternal hope. So we have the old uncomfortable bed for another few days, but it's just as well I didn't take it apart in anticipation of the new one's arrival, eh?
Anyway, I have a message for the muppet who stole the mattress: may your knob shrink to miniscule proportions, before you contract a disease that both makes you smell like someone who's been swimming in a sewerage plant, and your balls to first expand to the size of watermelons, then grow warts the size of pineapples, before dropping off. That, and I hope the police catch you and throw the book at you, preferably the big, heavy version, and from point-blank range, and that they get Geoff Capes to do it.
