Warning: Minor rant ahead. I was waiting for my home service detailer to show up this morning to give White Lightning her Sonax treatment. Theyre always punctual, so it was strange that the guy was about 45 mins late. So I check my phone, which had run out of batt and saw a message from the supervisor, which said: Sir, our detailer is at gate 1. They wont let him in. The guards need to verify with you first. The time stamp was over 45 mins before. So the poor guy had been standing out there patiently waiting while the guards sent telepathic signals across the village in the hope that I would, I dont know, sense it like Lassie and call them up and ask if someone was looking for me so that they could get their verification The week before Chevrolet sent over some movie tickets for Transformers and the guards said, Deakin? Ay, they moved out na! Good thing the messenger didnt buy the answer and said that he knows for a fact that we live here because he had delivered stuff before, so they let him in. Without verifying. Ive lost count of the times where things werent delivered because the messengers of many car companies dont have my number and just turned around because it just wasnt worth the grief. This all leads to me believe that hell isnt a place filled with fire and brimstone but a series of guard houses that you must explain yourself to for eternity. PS: They have a working phone at gate 1. And our home phone number. Because my wife was the one who was tasked to make the official village phone book.
Posted on: Sat, 05 Jul 2014 02:59:57 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015