Misdirected (HLD 325)

11 Feb 2021

It’s been mentioned before, but I’m fairly skilled at online shopping. Since our recent new credit card number issues, it does take me maybe a minute longer to complete a purchase, double-checking the details before completion, but it is still a hobby that I possess a fair degree of competency in.

In the last year or so, there’s been a spate of either ‘buy Australian’ or ‘buy from a bush business’ type of options promoted. The buying from bush businesses followed up from the very large bushfires early last year, when it was acknowledged that there are people in country areas who have small side businesses and were seeking the assistance of kind hearted online shoppers, to help supplement their fire affected income by purchasing from them instead of overseas corporations.

I’m nothing if not a patriotic online shopper, so I have supported a number of farmers wives, or small town small businesses and the like, over the past year.

A month or so ago, flush with the enthusiasm of having my second grandchild arrive, I found a lady in Queensland who, with her daughter, produce patchwork quilts in baby size – perfect for a change mat, or a pram rug, etc. They were in cute baby/child friendly material and looked pretty. Out came the credit card (only joking – of course I have now remembered it) and the transaction was completed.

Now – being a proficient online shopper, I keep a list of stuff I’ve ordered, and when I ordered it. I don’t keep a record of how much it costs though – some things don’t need to be documented readily on the home-sharing network that anyone (ie my husband) can see and comment on at will.

I had noticed that it was about three weeks since the lady had said she would post the item, and I hadn’t heard anything. So – in a polite, friendly, ‘lets blame Australia Post because I know you wouldn’t have forgotten to post this’ manner, I messaged her querying whether the quilt had been dispatched.

I got a very prompt message back to say, in a ‘don’t question my business style’ and ‘I’ve done my job it’s got nothing to do with me’ manner, that yes it was sent, and as she could ascertain from the tracking she paid for, it had been waiting for me to collect for two weeks.

I had not received any ‘sorry we missed you’ cards, nor were there any text messages from the post office saying there was something to be collected, or ANYTHING really, so I had to go back to my quilter again with a ‘please give me more information because I don’t know where I’m meant to have collected this thing from’. She sent me a 22 digit number, which I eventually worked out was for Australia Post, and rather than being a warehouse somewhere, was actually being held at one of my local post offices.

Off I went, a little indignant that they had not only not left me the first ‘missed you’ card, but hadn’t sent anything since. It’s hard to be indignant with a face mask on, I’ve found. And besides, the lady at the post office was very helpful.

No – she could not understand why I hadn’t received a card, nor the subsequent reminder card they always send. She didn’t understand why the parcel had been sitting in the post office for so long with nothing being done about it.

As I was winding up under my mask for a good whinge, she said “You’re definitely at number 12, right?”. No – I’m at number 21, obviously. “Oh well, there you go”, she says. Number 12 was written on the address label, so the people at number 12 have been getting your attempted delivery cards.

Ha ha, we both had a chuckle, and I was mentally composing my “It’s your fault” email to the quilting lady as I left. By the time I’d got home, a fun thought had crossed my mind and this impacted my response to my quilting lady. Number 12 in my street is not in the housing area. It’s closer down towards the river, and it is pretty much where….

The public toilets are.

I’m heading off this afternoon to have a hunt around the public loos to see if there are any more ‘sorry we missed you’ cards there.

That could mean an entirely different thing in the mens loos though.

(The quilting lady was very apologetic and we both enjoyed the public toilet aspect).

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