Royal Mail, now there's a poor excuse for a service. Now I'm not generally a bitter person - for fear of picking up the Daily Mail and shouting at the TV, but Her Majesty's postal service really has got a lot to answer for. I don't really care about the number of daily collections, post office closures, or even what time my post is delivered. But there are a few things which I really shouldn't have to complain about.
First of all, 'Special Delivery'. Exactly what's special about it? Am I missing something, or should receiving something posted to you just be the service - to just go without saying? Should I really have to pay more to guarantee this basic requirement? But even worse of course, even 'Special Delivery' doesn't actually guarantee delivery of the item, it just insures the value of it. So what's the point? I might as well just post my letters into the bin, or give them to a tramp in exchange for some old Burger King wrappers. At least then there's a chance I could receive some free burger coupons or a plastic Woody Woodpecker toy.
Then there's picking up a parcel. Now I've no idea, not being very old and all, about how Post 'used' to be. But I'm pretty sure Henry VIII, Oliver Cromwell, or Winston Churchill didn't need to wait 48 fucking hours after receiving a parcel slip to be able to retrieve their consignments. And I bet once they'd got to their parcel depots, theirs were the ones you can actually see through the hatch, not the ones which are so hidden in the labyrinth of failed deliveries the postal assistant emerges after 35 minutes looking like he's just slayed a dragon.
I think what's been lost here is the common sense. Replaced, like with so many things in society, with bureaucracy. I once bemused the assistant in my local parcel depot by asking if I could post something. The fact is, it's not difficult to deliver something which has the delivery address written on it. So just get on with it, and stop pretending efficiency is a chargeable luxury.
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