The wrong parcel (not trousers)!

 The wrong parcel…

 

Why can’t I even accept a parcel delivery and it go to plan?

Last week, I was tracking a parcel and when it was near, I waited in the hallway (not right on top of the door, but near enough to allow the driver to be on their way quickly as I always think they appreciate that as they have so many deliveries).

Anyway, this time, I heard something be put down by the door. So, I rushed to it and opened the door only to see quite a small parcel sitting there. Having ordered two things, I wasn’t sure it was everything. I tore the paper bag open at the top and looked in. To my bemusement, it wasn’t mine! I yelled “Wrong parcel!” and then decided to go after him when nothing happened...

Home alone, I grabbed the front door key and put on some shoes. As I reached the end of the joining path, I heard a van in the distance. Typical. I wanted to be sure it was my delivery person and asked a man (who had just parked up with his young son). He confirmed that the driver had sped off in the direction of the road.

Knowing he could have turned left or right, I knew I would need to play detective to see where this parcel belonged as the label they use for codes had been stuck over the address.

I did however make out the name (just a man’s name, no surname) and could piece together the address by looking through the label I had peeled off. I could make out the last three parts of the postcode as this hadn't been stuck over.

I had a quick Google of the name of what I thought the property was called, and a Zoopla search confirmed it was as the postcode matched.

Next, I looked to see where it was and made a call ('I don’t want to go on my own, please come with me') and then I got changed – I had been doing housework and wasn’t exactly presentable enough for a short walk.

Just as I had removed my joggers, the door went. I opened the bathroom window and called, “Hang on!”

I ran down – having put my joggers back on (obviously) and opened the door to find a man holding my parcel.

 

This is how the conversation went as I picked up his and accepted mine from him:

 

“Thank you, I was just about to bring you yours, but I had to get changed.”

“It’s open?”

“Yes, the man didn’t knock but I knew I was the next delivery so I was waiting. I heard him put it down by the door. I thought it didn’t look big enough so ripped it open. I called 'wrong parcel' and ran after him, but he’d driven off.”

“What does the address say?”

“That’s the thing. It’s almost entirely covered. I didn’t notice until after I’d opened it.”

“Is this all that was in there?”

“Yes, I promise. I went running straight out – as a man who had just parked up could tell you. I came back and carefully peeled off the sticker and worked out your address. I Googled it, found you and needed to get changed as I was too scruffy to go out properly and then you knocked!”

At this point he huffed and walked off. I, however, called ‘thank you’ after him!

Perhaps he had been expecting another parcel too. His was wrapped in a paper bag, mine had been a box, so I was right that mine wouldn’t have fitted in there and was (indeed) larger.

Anyway, I had to share this as it's another 'typical me' story!