The tightest ship in the shipping business... ?
We do a lot of shopping online. Books for the parish discussion group, birthday gifts, business equipment... all sorts of things. We end up having something delivered to the house about once a week, and sometimes more often than that.
It should be simple, no? We order, companies ship, and shippers deliver, right? Wrong. Oh, we keep doing our part in keeping the system moving. USPS, DHL, UPS, FedEx... you name it, they've all had their turn, and they've all been here.
Eventually.
After several tries.
And extended delays on packages where timing has been critical.
The glitch in the system has been the fact that our home is in a new subdivision. It doesn't show up on any maps; Google and Mapquest are clueless about our existance. We have turned out to be a challenge to the local Delivery Dudes.
Okay, it's a problem. I get that. So the last few times, we have made a point of calling the scheduled courier, a day or two before the delivery date, to make sure they have a) accurate directions, and b) a phone number they can call if they have difficulty. And they are beginning to catch on.
(I will note here that the lone Delivery Dudette in the crowd-- the local postal carrier-- has had no trouble finding us. Conjecture as to any gender-linked ability to follow directions is left as an exercise for the reader).
However, even after several tries, the Delivery Dude with the Big Brown Truck still cannot seem to get it. It happened again today. We saw the truck drive down the street, just south of the neighborhood, so we waited.
And waited.
Nothing.
So my husband got online, and sure enough; the tracking info at the website said "NEED CORRECT ADDRESS FOR DELIVERY." In other words, the driver had not read his sheet. Not followed the directions we had called in two days ago. Not called the supplied phone number to check. AGAIN.
So I called tonight and complained. AGAIN. Firmly enough that this time I got to chat with a national supervisor.
Rest assured, Gentle Reader, that I was civil. I did not shout; I did not swear; I did not even (though I was greatly tempted) ask if they offered remedial training in finding one's backside using both hands and a 360° mirror booth.
The driver walked into the office while I was in conference with both the local manager and the customer service supervisor. He will be here tomorrow. After a chat with his supervisor tonight.
Maybe he won't need the mirror booth next time.
It should be simple, no? We order, companies ship, and shippers deliver, right? Wrong. Oh, we keep doing our part in keeping the system moving. USPS, DHL, UPS, FedEx... you name it, they've all had their turn, and they've all been here.
Eventually.
After several tries.
And extended delays on packages where timing has been critical.
The glitch in the system has been the fact that our home is in a new subdivision. It doesn't show up on any maps; Google and Mapquest are clueless about our existance. We have turned out to be a challenge to the local Delivery Dudes.
Okay, it's a problem. I get that. So the last few times, we have made a point of calling the scheduled courier, a day or two before the delivery date, to make sure they have a) accurate directions, and b) a phone number they can call if they have difficulty. And they are beginning to catch on.
(I will note here that the lone Delivery Dudette in the crowd-- the local postal carrier-- has had no trouble finding us. Conjecture as to any gender-linked ability to follow directions is left as an exercise for the reader).
However, even after several tries, the Delivery Dude with the Big Brown Truck still cannot seem to get it. It happened again today. We saw the truck drive down the street, just south of the neighborhood, so we waited.
And waited.
Nothing.
So my husband got online, and sure enough; the tracking info at the website said "NEED CORRECT ADDRESS FOR DELIVERY." In other words, the driver had not read his sheet. Not followed the directions we had called in two days ago. Not called the supplied phone number to check. AGAIN.
So I called tonight and complained. AGAIN. Firmly enough that this time I got to chat with a national supervisor.
Rest assured, Gentle Reader, that I was civil. I did not shout; I did not swear; I did not even (though I was greatly tempted) ask if they offered remedial training in finding one's backside using both hands and a 360° mirror booth.
The driver walked into the office while I was in conference with both the local manager and the customer service supervisor. He will be here tomorrow. After a chat with his supervisor tonight.
Maybe he won't need the mirror booth next time.
posted by Jane Ellen+ at
7:26 PM
5 Comments:
At least we have a local Big Brown Truck Delivery Dude. He actually lives in town. So when the Big Brown National Operator says, "We don't show that address on our system," I can get away with saying, "It's a small town, he'll find it."
And sure enough, our packages are waiting for us in the entry way.
We don't even have to deal with stickers that say, "Nobody home, will try again later."
I really do love living here.
One word: OY.
As far as the post office goes, I'd speculate that since they're a government agency they have more procedures in place for adapting to new roads and addresses. After all, the road was probably registered with the local government long before the first house was built.
The brown Dude has a problem here in Ouilmette as well. The issue happens to be about the number of doors on the building. S/he will come to the front doors of the sanctuary and knock. Typical of a church, if you knock on those doors, no one will answer (Jesus will clear that up next time aorund, I hope). They do not follow the directions to come around the side.
First your name, now your address. ;)
I have a friend who lives in middle of nowhere Oregon. Her package (a computer) took 4 weeks to get to her because they continued to say her house didn't exist.
it's been there for over a hundred years.
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