Our newsagent is a moron. We used to have great, friendly newsagents – I’ve mentioned them before – Irene and Hercules, the man with the strength to lift a dozen Saturday Age’s. But they’ve gone, and Mr Moron has taken up residence.
We get newspapers delivered three times a week. The Age and Australian on Tuesdays, for the computer section (okay, so most of its online, but this helps me go through the week’s news all in one go, and I can read it on the train), The Age on Thursdays, for the Green Guide (that’s TV, radio and computers, for you out of towners) and The Age on Saturdays, for something to read and to keep the recycling pile growing up towards the ceiling.
Last Tuesday, they delivered The Age, but not the Australian, which we got on Wednesday instead. Not much use on Wednesday, so we returned it. This morning, they again delivered just The Age, and when I dropped past on my way to the station to get The Australian, the newsagent argued with me that last week we’d returned The Australian on Tuesday!
"No, it was Wednesday’s."
"No, it was Tuesday’s."
"NO, it was WEDNESDAY’s!"
Arsehole! Does he think I’m a complete idiot? Why, if I specifically want The Australian on Tuesday for the computer section, would I return it if it was correct? Why was it not sitting in the driveway on Tuesday with The Age, but showed up in the driveway the next morning? Does he think I can’t tell the difference between Tuesday and Wednesday?
Right, that does it. Not only will I cease buying my various computer magazines from there (ah, the joys of company expenses), I’m also going to take every opportunity in future to not drop past when a paper doesn’t get delivered, but to ring up and make him deliver it personally.