Yesterday evening I received a rather snotty email from the people from whom I’d bought my new shed. Basically they were demanding to know why I didn’t accept delivery of the thing. On Wednesday I’d spoken with the delivery people (BusinessPost), who were unhelpfulness personified. They would not leave the thing with a neighbour. They would not deliver it to my work. They would not phone me when they got to Ashford so’s I could come home to accept delivery. They would charge a further five quid if they were going to try to deliver it again. And I couldn’t collect it from their warehouse in the evening because they close at 7pm. Morning collection is different, however. They open at 1.30am (!).
So I took a day off work to make a hundred mile round trip to collect the thing myself. Despite the best efforts of the RAC’s route planner I eventually found the depot in an obscure retail park near Tunbridge Wells. The car park was full of arrogant lorry drivers who resented anyone else being on what was clearly seen as “their” ground. And the office staff were surly at best. Had I phoned them to arrange collection in person? Was I sure that I had? Did they say they had the parcel? I’d driven fifty miles to their office. “Mr Helpful” resented walking ten yards into the warehouse. Eventually he dragged my parcel out and had a really nasty grumble at me because the sender had claimed the package only weighed one kilogram. I could see it weighed far more than that, but I hadn’t posted it. I told him to take it up with the sender, but that just made things worse. Their firm are fed up with the people who sold me the shed. Apparently they always underpay the postage.
And I got the thing home to find it was rather cheap quality, and broken in two places. Before I could get too angry with it, the phone rang. “Daddies Little Angel TM ” wondered if I would buy her a new dress for tonight’s exhibition. On the way home from giving her a small fortune to buy her own dress, I stopped off at the builder’s merchant. I have this idea of a slab stone on which the new shed will stand. I had no idea how many shapes, colours and designs of slab stones there are. (There’s hundreds) Or how heavy they are.
Home to wrestle the shed together. “Wrestle” being the operative phrase. Seeing as one of the corners of the back section had been smashed, I needed to build the thing so that the damaged corner would be hidden. However, having done that, none of the pre-drilled holes were in the right place. I would have sent it back if the delivery firm hadn’t been so awkward. Eventually I bodged it all together. It’s had a lick of paint, and it will last for a year or so: I may need to replace it after that.
This evening was an evening of art and culture. The college had an exhibition featuring work by all the students, including some by “Daddies Little Angel TM.” I didn’t realise how much went on in the college. There were exhibits over four floors, featuring all sorts of art. Sculpture, painting, photography, collage, videos, dressmaking. There was a particularly excellent painting of the “Heath Ledger” Joker from the Batman film. There was even complimentary wine, and most of the students had dressed up for the occasion. A really good evening out. I’m looking forward to next year’s show...
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